Dragons, demons, I can't tell the difference [Dragonfizzle]

A lot had changed for Alexander ever since he had met Matt, or as he was now called Yamm. Honestly either name was unimportant, as he would refer to him as Matt for as long as the name stuck, or until the male demanded that he be called something other than Matt. His mind however was upon this simple fact as he walked along, returning from the park that he usually walked alone, keeping the leather tote that usually kept his equipment, unsure when he would need it but making sure that he always had it. With his relation to the dragon god, Alexander wanted to make sure that he was always prepared for anything that happened, and that meant always having a means to protect ones self.

At the moment he was walking along, returning to home and to his drunken father who was prone to whatever drunken things that he usually did. Likely a lot of shouting, and maybe even threatening to hurt him, not that he would ever do it; he never did.  Still it was getting close to night time, and he had places to be before night fell, and left him with a city that changed into something far different than he wanted to deal with. Even with his bo staff that could down a grown man with the lowest setting, he did not want to venture to deal with any thugs, especially the types with guns. The idea of being shot was enough to make him cringe as he walked along, tapping his belt lightly, and enjoying the energy that radiated from it.

All it took was a slight enchantment and it could become a very dangerous item, and one that he enjoyed using. His phone would vibrate and Alexander would check it, a message from Matthew, Alexander frowning lightly as he answered it. ”Maybe I could check up on him, I have time.” He muttered.

Dragons, Demons, I cant tell the difference..


The City of Dreams, Las Angeles.. It was just before sundown on a semi cloudy day.. The rays caught the clouds perfectly splashing colors across the sky.. Wingnut was watching the view from above the city having jumped on the tallest one he could.. He lay back as he watched the clouds roll by.. He couldn't believe it, some one was paying him to beat some one up.. It wasn't something he did often but some times it was necessary.. The only reason he even took it was because of his incredible boredom... He was tired of hunting for petty criminals... So he watched the clouds roll by.. He really didn't want to take this job and was planning on just telling the man he had a hit out on him.. But then again it could be lots of fun.. He did like to fight.. But what if the person dosnt like being punched in the face..?? HhHHHMMM.. could be fun ether way.. His Intel should have been solid.. First he was to tail the man and confirm that he is the target.. Then punish him.. it didn't really matter.. As long as wingnut didn't kill any one then he was all good.. The time hit Seven Oclock and his watch beeped off, time.. He rolled back off the roof flipping thru the air, before landing on the ground with all fours.. The impact shacking the earth.. People around him hurried off clutching brief cases or purses a little tighter as they hurried along.. Wingnut stood up, and began walking like a man not in a cape, or wearing a mask or anything that might have been armor.. His Intel had been simple he would have only one chance at intercepting the target.. He would be walking along this stretch of road.. or at least might be.. It was one of the more frequented paths the target took..

What drew the attention of the young male was the sound of something crashing, concrete splintering under the great weight of something, as a man was sent stumbling back from the impact of the metahuman against the ground. He was slightly taller than Alexander, looked like a much older version of him, save for the smell of booze on him and the disheveled hair. It was Alexander however that witnessed this situation and mental cursed, considering letting his father yell at the man and then walking on while he likely got killed. Yet despite his almost nonexistent feelings for his father, he would have rather not seen his parent get splattered across the pavement, if only because it would not sit right with him. So this was why he was considering helping him out, as he would begin to spout something at the stranger.

”Hey! Whatch where ya goin….ya freak.” The drunk male would slur in his thick English accent, pushing himself from the ground and swaying some. Alexander rolled his eyes as he followed the lead of the masses, people moving about away from the scene save for the drunk, and Alexander would make his way into one of the alleyways. No one had bothered to really enter it, and within the darkness he would work, flicking on his belt buckle as the darkness poured from it, forming like a cloak along Alexander as he began wreathed in it, the hood forming over his face and becoming dark enough that one could only see the lower part of his face. It was then that he could act without having to worry too much about any reprocutions of his actions, not that he planned to do much.

Get his father out of there, and maybe teach the metahuman a lesson about destruction of public property; by likely destroying things. Stepping from the shadows of the alley within his cloak of shadows, Alexander would considering the metahuman with the drunk still ranting at him. ”I would suggest stepping away from him.” Alexander noted to the drunk, the hood seeming to give his voice an otherworldly quality, multilayered as the tendrils of darkness would rise from his cloak, prepared for any attack that would come at them.

A drunk man slurred and ranted at Wingnut with a accent so thick and so gargled with drunkenesss.. That wingnut barely made out the word freak out.. At that wingnut proclaimed "where" putting his hand above his eyes searching for the said freak.. Looking around like and idiot.. The drunk man tried to point at Wingnuts chest but spotting his target slip into a alley he simply locked onto him.. The drunk man was interrupted by what sounded like a gargled boys voice.. "I would suggest stepping away from him".. The drunk man whirled around, looking high, "who told me what to do" fists up.. He looked right over the mans head.. The drunk swaying from side to side.. Wingnut swayed with him in time with in time with the drunk.. and said " you should listen to the kid" the drunk looked around and then finally nodded his head down.. "oh" Wingnut bonked him on the head, lightly.. The drunk bobbed up and down and stumbled off mumbling something about whiskey..

Wingnut never took his eyes off the kid.. Now draped in black.. "nice costume".. He assessed the tall kid, weighing what his strength and weaknesses might be.. Looks like hes a brain guy.. not good up and close like Wingnut, dosnt mean he cant fight long range like this kid.. but who knows what's up the kids sleeve... So wingnut began walking forward, "you know someone paid me to beat you up".. "What could a kid like you have done".. Wingnut shook his head, couldn't have been to bad Wingnut thought.. Maybe just a little fun and then he will scram he didn't want to hurt this kid he looked almost innocent..

So there walked his father, not harmed it would seem but the male in the strange armor seemed to lock onto him. His cloak would move much like sentient shadow, but the tendrils were the only real things that were actually mobbing upon it. They may have no looked like much, but they were more than capable of exerting an amazing amount of strength when required, which was enough to keep most dangerous things away despite his own lacking human physicality. Hidden within the darkness of his cloak was his leather tote bag, which he removed the staff from , a single symbol appearing upon it before being clutched within his hand, also hidden within the darkness of the cloak. ”Someone paid you to beat me up?” He asked with a raised brow, wondering who in their right mind would do something like that.

It felt strange that someone would hire a metahuman to beat up some kid no one knew anything about, but he would question it once this was done. ”Sorry, but I have no intentions of getting beaten up.” Even with how his voice was being filtered, one could pick out his thick English accent, as the male adjusted his glasses and perhaps waited for the supposed assailant to strike.

"you sure, it can be fun" Wingnut stated flatly.. I only told you cause I wanted a fair fight.. Besides they just want you tender".. Wingnut continued forward, time too find out what this lads capable of.. Wingnut waited no longer than that.. He stomped hard with his right foot kicking up a rock and sending out cracks in the side walk.. Wingnut waited for what seemed a very long moment in combat, as the rock flipped up to about chest level.. While the rock flipped up, he twisted at the knees.. Then with all his strength hit the rock with his elbow.. Sending it flying to the cloaked boys chest.. The rock wasn't that big about the size of a soft ball.. After he struck the rock Wingnut jumped and grabbed a window seal, looking at how the kid responded..