Amy Tirouette, AKA Joygirl
Joygirl, the clown maniac, has ripped her way out of her own universe via the Fourth Wall and is eager to prove herself against the heroes and villains of the more mainstream comic universes.
I will supply images, abilities, and feats, before listing the gauntlet itself.
Pics: -- Amy + Joygirl
Pics: -- Joygirl
Powers, Abilities, and Skills
Joygirl's abilities come from a combination of factors. Her natural physical aptitude is enhanced to about peak human (along with a few side abilities), but when she changes from Amy to the "Joygirl" personality, a constant, manic rush of mutated adrenaline causes several of these abilities to increase. Her powers are as thus:
- Enhanced Strength (around the 2-3 ton mark)
- Enhanced Speed (approx. 80-90mph)
- Enhanced Reaction/Combat Speed, approx. equivalent to her increase in travel speed.
- Regenerative Healing Factor. While this can be taxed after an excessive degree of punishment, it has allowed her to heal from being riddled with bullets from a firing squad, having a fist shoved through her head, losing multiple limbs, and having her internal organs liquefied. This healing factor can be overtaxed and must eventually be replenished by eating copious amounts, restoring the macronutrients Joygirl uses to heal herself.
- Ultralibrium. This ability allows Joygirl to precisely control her weight (decreasing it to weightless, or increasing it dramatically) and also gives her powers of subjective gravity.
- Empty Mind. Joygirl's mutated brain is able to "borrow" basic knowledge from Amy's mind, such as language and mathematics. As a result, her mind is effectively "empty"... this dramatically shortens her learning curve, and otherwise likens her mental aptitude to that of a child.
- Dual Mind. Because of her shared mind and the constant struggle raging within it, Joygirl is highly resistant to telepathy, pheromones, enchantment, and other forms of mind control.
- Superhuman Senses. Darkvision, super-hearing, the ability to determine minute textile differences, and the ability to sense/detect vapors and shifts in atmosphere.
- Martial Arts. While she is not a master martial artist, Joygirl has developed an acrobatic fighting style that relies on her erratic mental nature as well as her Ultralibrium.
- Demolitions/Marksmanship. Joygirl has shown passable marksmanship skills, along with advanced knowledge of chemistry and demolitions.
- Motor Mouth. Joygirl is so chatty and vulgar that she has, on a few occasions, driven her opponents to distraction.
Naturally, she is not without weaknesses.
- Amy. If Joygirl is overly taxed, has her mind tampered with too badly, is "knocked out," or otherwise loses control, the Amy personality takes over. This personality has dramatically lessened abilities and no combat experience.
- Caustics. Materials like acid and napalm are severely taxing on her healing factor, slowing it significantly.
- Inner Ear Attacks. Joygirl's Ultralibrium relies on her sense of balance. Thus, sonic attacks or attacks to the ears (such as boxing them) severely disorient her and cause her abilities to become dangerously erratic.
- Insanity. Suffering from severe ADHD among other mental diseases, she can frequently suffer from a lack of focus on the battle at hand.
Joygirl uses specialized equipment in the majority of her fights, consisting of unique weaponry she is skilled with.
- Knives. Joygirl uses a pair of karambit blades forged from Styx Obsidian, a virtually-unobtainable material. Nearly indestructible, the only feature that outweighs their durability is their cutting power.
- Talon. Talon is a enormous revolver, a .600 magnum that houses nine barrels and features a single-shot 12 gauge underbarrel. It features gas vents and a specialized handle, and coupled with Joygirl's immense strength she is able to easy handle its significant kickback.
- Jack-O'-Hammer. This weapon features a heavy ball cast from iridium alloy at the end of a chain composed of braided high-tech microwire. Due to this, it is elastic in nature, stretching to absurd lengths and bouncing around erratically. Joygirl uses this weapon against agile opponents and those who can predict her movements, since even she herself is not entirely sure where the ball will bounce.
I will try to keep feats to a minimum, sticking with the more impressive ones to express her power level.
Note: The Joygirl story is extremely vulgar. I have censored what curse words I spotted but the content is still very mature. Don't read if you can't handle it.
Defeats JoJo, a 15-tonner (with downgraded gear)
"...Is this really the move you wish to make?"
"Oh Big Bad Wolf, Little Red Riding Ninja is packin'."
I fire under the table but he throws a stupid glass in my face, and by the time I've got that sorted he punches me in the chest so hard my ribs break. It sends me flying into the stage -- ah, shit, so much for that autograph. I unload a bullet at him as my bones knit and unpuncture my lungs. He dodges it and puts his hand under the table, throwing it at me. Shit, this guy is built like a beast but moves like a snake. But, unless he's indestructible like that hussy I dominated, or has a sickass healing factor like me, all I gotta do is tag him a few times.
Although, I couldn't have been ready when he walked up, held his fist up, and said, "Join us, or die." OMG. Darth Vader-style. Now I'm not sure I even wanna kill him.
"Did you just, say...?" I ask, lowering the cannon slightly.
"Okay, okay, wait, this is priceless!" I put the .454 in my belt and pull out my cell phone, setting it to video. "Say... 'She is part of the rebel alliance, and a traitor, and must therefore die.' Please? Or no, wait... 'I find your lack of faith disturbing.' Please! Come on, say it!" I beg.
He seems to consider it, but he doesn't say it. Fucker. I pull out my gun and shoot him in the balls. He winces, but seems... unperturbed. Are there really so many super-turds in New York? I thought I'd be so unique... ah well, at least I have that collection of Clowngirl Magazines that was unrivalled even by iluvcllownz86. I'll have to get a calling card or something, but rea--
His fist breaks my nose in the middle of my mind ramble. "Monther...."
I roar and dodge the next strike, and empty what is left of my lead deposits in the side of his head. He breathes deeply and puts his giant fingers on the place where I shot him. Like scratching a scab, he pulls out the bullets one by one.
"You really should not have done that."
"Aw, does that mean I'm finally off your Christmas card list? That's great, because I really don't want any more DVD collections of the Three Stooges." I reload my gun and he eyes me.
"You are a nuisance, and you will be dealt with!"
I grin at him and holster my gun (again), the sextuplet of lead babies will have to wait. He doesn't bleed... but you know, that will work really well when I carve my name in his chest.
He jumps forward, towards me, and I grab my karambits in both hands, slicing his arm as I dodge his strike. The other one I plant in his chest. This guy feels like he's made of rubber or something... he has big red gashes but no blood... well, very little blood. I can see some red in there. He slaps me again and pushes me into the wall. I can't out-muscle him or out-weigh him.
"I shall teach you a lesson you will not soon forget. I suggest you reconsider our offer," he says as he holds me up by my neck.
I struggle a little bit, but it's futile. He hits me in the face and all of a sudden I realize how it feels to be hit with a building. I giggle, spit out a few teeth, and regrow them.
"Is that really the best you've got? You fuckin'..." he hits me again. Hard. "...pussy! You didn't even..." another enormous punch from a big metal glove. "...scuff the makeup... okay maybe you did a li'l...." My arms flobble weakly and I slowly raise them to his sides, taking another punch before I get in place. "...Gitchee gitchee gitchee!" I squeal, tickling his ribs without mercy. His eyes widen, and he stifles his giggle but promptly drops me. Nothing gets you out of an inescapable grapple like tickling. I topple to the ground and slowly wobble to my feet, laughing my fucking head off at my momentary success. If I had a cigar and a big chair, I'd lay back and say "I love it when a plan comes together." But not with a Liam Neeson accent. That... would be silly.
He starts to freight-train-charge me (so uncivilized) but I shoot him in the teeth (shoulda done that much earlier, really). He stumbles and falls and... and he starts coughing, well coughing is not quite the word... more like he... he's got food stuck in his throat. Choking. Yeah, that's it. Choking.
Grabbing his neck, he looks at me helplessly and I laugh at his throaty-chokey sound. What can I say, it's funny.
While I wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes, I jeer at him. "Man, after all that and you're going to die choking on a lead bean! Really? You pussy!"
He makes a lazy swipe at me and I enter a laughing fit again, leaning on my knees now. He finally coughs it out spitting the wad of lead through the hole in his mask. His eyes are pure murder and I take the opportunity to snap a quick pic with my mobile phone.
Then his look changes and I swear I see fear in his eyes. Fear is good too, so I take another pic. He's not looking at me though, so I point my gun at his eye, glancing back for just a moment.
Dominates two cyborgs (with downgraded gear)
There is a rather large shotgun pressed against the back of Ciggy's head, and I'm quite sure she didn't come with that pre-packaged.
Two rather large gentlemen with two identical shotguns, both platinum blonde and rockin' this über-mensh vibe stand behind us.
Behind them the patrons are cowering in fear, these two did not come alone and every one of the twenty or so guys they brought is packing gifts of fire and lead. I smile like it's Christmas (though this may realistically be better than Christmas at Amy's house).
Good thing I have my trusty revolver… lying with my pile of clothes… out of reach.
"You will let the little bitch go and come quietly. You have a date with razor wire, a blowtorch--"
"--And concrete shoes, in your future."
They finish each other's sentences. That is so cute… and I'm really starting to put stock in the blondy cloning theory.
One leather-clad hand is still behind the girl's back, holding her against me. My eyes flash with mischief behind my goggles as my other hand, unseen, slips behind me, down to the top of my boot... down to my blades.
"She's not a bitch," I growl quietly. Deftly using my ultralibrium on my hand I swing her body away from the shotgun, it goes off but hits air, same goes for the one on my neck for that matter. My free hand (with karambit) arcs over the left blondy-bear's arm.
Odd… that didn't feel like blood, muscle, and bone….
There was something stranger about these mooks than I thought. But no matter, damascus cuts through most things, and the wire under this brute's skin was no exception.
With Ciggy behind me, I draw my other knife and settle into a combat stance. Now I'm really having fun! I dash toward the front mook, slashing his neck, face, eye, groin, heart-area, and stomach within about a second.
He stumbles back and sparks start flyin' like it's the Fourth of July. The big blond turd falls down like a great big brick wall, squishing a patron. By this time I have my pistol in hand and the second mobster takes six bullets in the face. He doesn't seem to approve, but as he falls the first asshole's standin' up! He pulls a piece and shoots at Ciggy. It hits me in the face instead, scuffs the makeup, but mostly just pisses me off. I grab him by the back of his blond head and slice his fuckin' head off (cool, right?!). Wires and steel rip and tear apart and finally he sits down like I want him to, this time for good. I nod at Ciggy and smile.
There were still others, less big and capable but still brandishing guns. Weaponized bastards.
I look at them and back at Ciggy who looks understandably concerned.
Owns a ninja with indestructible skin (with downgraded gear)
Oh oh oh, this is sooo much better. All dressed in black I thought he was a high-tech burglar, but he's a vigilante. Some thugs are attacking this woman, her panties are on her ankles but she'll be okay, the men are still wearing their pants, though one lost his face to the brick wall of the alley. The assailant is fast, damn fast, and fluid. Three men taken down in less than a minute.
Victim woman is crawling up while the last assailant draws a blade, he's undone quickly, losing the knife and getting his hand broken. Knee kicked down, head meets knee. I kinda like the simplicity.
Hmm, rocket-man is a skinny one.
"And I think it's gonna be, a long long time, 'til, touchdown... bringsmeroundagaintofind, I'm... not, the man, they, thinkIamathome, oh no, no, no! I'm a ROCK, ET, MAN! ROCKETMAN! BURNINGOUTHISFUSE OUT, HERE, ALONE!" I draw my gun and a blade and I'm about to shoot the victim but she... well she's wearing polka dot undies and they're kinda cute, reminding me of Ciggy. Instead, the last assailant's head explodes, pretty much in the face of rocket... queen?
Turns out the vigilante I was following is a sweet little girly! Slender, and cute, like my Ciggy. She's wearing black and red like an inverse Deadpool outfit and a funky little facemask, but I can see long black hair and I can't miss those tits (Actually I probably could, they aren't particularly prominent. But the point is, I didn't. Not that I would have.). I smirk and drop from the roof I was on.
" 'Sup!" I call over, and my exclamation mark is a bullet from my .454. It blasts into girly's chest -- and *tink*s off. Armor, maybe? Or a real challenge? My heart starts beating, this is exciting! Surfer-girl rushes me with a punch and clearly has no idea which clowngirl she's messing with. I'm fucking JOYGIRL, you won't see anything like me at any circus you've ever been to! The punch tickles, and I let off another round right between her breasts, making sure I aim for the bullethole in her outfit. I hit the same spot but her armor (if it's armor) still doesn't break. Still rocket-hussy's silent, looking meaningfully at me through the visor on her mask as she unleashes a volley of attacks that are -- almost -- too quick to dodge or parry.
Unscathed, I smile and counter.
My fourth bullet (only two left for you, bitch) goes for her head but she tilts it just so, so that it ricochets off that faceplate. There is a small crack, however, and some glass breaks loose. Still, there is a moment where she wobbles and throws this punch that I'm just refusing to take. She's fast and graceful but that really doesn't help her when I kick her knee out from under her and jab my elbow in her neck. Armor or no, there are just some things that you do to a human body that it can't ignore. Like my before last bullet, point blank on her solar plexus. She takes it well but can hear the groan escaping from the facemask. She manages to stand up fully, and takes on some kind of fighting stance, and I roar in laughter as I unleash my own volley of rapid kicks and slashes with my off-hand karambit.
"You've lost, bitch," I yell as I grab her hair and smash the side of her head in a steel dumpster. I grab my revolver and give her my last lovely bullet. Not on her face, not her chest, but her temple. The moment of truth. It's unarmored, showing some pretty skin, and when I squeeze the trigger her head just knocks the bullet away like a golf ball. I'm disappointed with the lack of blood but my question is answered -- it's not armor, it's her.
She can take the bullets on her frikkin' skin.
That is cool, I have to admit.
I grab her by her hair and make her look at me as she wobbles like a drunk starlet. Light shines through the crack in her visor and I see this bright green eye, right after that I headbutt her (fuck yo' faceplate!). Hey, wait, I just said 'head' and 'butt' in the same sentence. Oh holy shit I just did it again! Headbutt is an awesome word.
I hear a little "oof", and she staggers backward. Still she hasn't said anything, but she seems to be gathering herself.
I stuff my gun back in its holster and pull both knives, getting into my own stance -- it's a sort of mixture of styles that I've learned from different books, practicing at home for years before I was powerful enough to leave the house. Kinda a mix of russian sambo, drunken boxing, ninjutsu, capoeira, acrobatics, and fencing -- I call it Drunken Jester. It capitalizes on mobility and unpredictability, and it's just perfect for my... unique abilities.
Green-eyed bitch dashes forward with a volley of punches and kicks that are even slower than her last assault. I parry, sidestep, blocking each blow with my knives before attacking. The first two attacks 'tink' off of her, but as she leans back to dodge the third, I get a grazing blow -- a grazing blow that cuts her! Maybe her invulnerability can only take so much. "It's pretty funny, ya know," I say as she staggers back, clutching her slashed belly. "They say good guys always win. I guess that isn't always true, huh sweetie?" I smirk and let out a little giggle, poising myself for defense, but she raises her fist and shoots out a super thin line. It hits her board and pulls her up instantly.
Hahaha she's wobbling, and even hits the side of the building before speeding away from me. She bends off and goes straight up into the smog filled sky. I jump after her via a fire escape and the sides of the alleyway, using ultralibrium to bounce between the walls like an extremely deadly pinball, but that thing's too fast and too smooth. I wanna yell something after her that lets her know what I think of her, but she's already too far away, making me feel a little inept and a lot of exhilarated.
I giggle and say to myself, "what wonderful toys you have."
That was actually hot, and fierce, and I hug myself out of sheer joy. Most people can't go one round with me (only Ciggy managed so far, teehee) but she took a lot of pummeling and… well the woman can't fight for shit but who knows, I didn't give her much of a chance.
I feel giddy and like I'm the meanest predator in this fucking town. To put some stock behind that, I roar towards the heavens in mad laughter.
As I come down I'm left staring at the smog filled sky. "Can't wait to meet you again little runner girl," I say quietly to myself.
Crushes a cell phone with one hand
I giggle and rest on the counter, and she looks at me funny. With blinding speeeeed I reach out and grab her phone, enticing a "hey!"
There is a boy on the other end, I notice, as I keep her face and body away with my outstretched arm. "She's too good for you," I say. I look at her confidently and she eyes me oddly, realizing that I'm quite something else (maybe she finally spotted that hand cannon I carry around). Smiling coyly at her, I slowly crush the phone in my hand. It goes from boring conversation to snap, crackle, and pop, to dead, and her look is now aghast.
Stands on gas particles
Green gas and white flames go BOOM for another splash page, and as the ceiling collapses, I take a risk and put my ultralibrium to the ultimate test -- I leap onto the edge of the gaseous cloud -- and jump off.
I can stand on gas particles.
Is defeated, but survives a beatdown by JoJo (a 15-tonner), K'ryl (precog and aim), the Fiend (speed and strength), and the Green Rose (tech and pheromones). Has downgraded gear in the fight.
I've already had six shots of Sailor Jerry's and I'm not feeling too bad -- until, of course, that damn bullet whizzes through my head. That makes me feel significantly worse.
The crowd screams and backs away, towards the exit, while I claw at the enormous bullet that just barely didn't make it out of the back of my skull. As the crowd thins, I see a guy in a trenchcoat with a pasty face, long teeth, an awesome hat, and a huge smile. He walks slowly towards me, and I can see my own reflection in his shades. Man, he looks like he just walked out of some futuristic goth gangster novel. It's pretty badass actually.
I wanna kick his ass, but the bullet made my head just a wee bit fuzzy. The weirdo lifts up an ancient-looking blackpowder pistol like you see in pirate movies (arrrrr!), and speaks to me in an accent that is clearly foreign, though not one I can place.
"Did you know that the largest pistol bullet ever made just went through your head?" He says with that long-toothed grin. "Blackpowder guns, at one time, had a .68 caliber bullet! That's amazing, isn't it? You should know. The largest pistol bullet right now is the Smith and Wesson .500 magnum, and it's damn big, but nothing like the behemoth that just blasted through that pretty skull of yours. So you see, old guns can be good too, they all have their place... I like guns."
Wow, that was epic. He totally just baffled me with trivia after shooting me inna face.
I stagger back as he raises the gun to my head again, taking his time and grinning at me like the Cheshire Cat. He pulls the trigger and I spin and duck, touching one finger to the bullet and shifting my subjectional gravity onto it. It speeds away, blasting through the wall of the club and taking me with it, and finally I feel like laughing again, so I do.
I drop to the ground and pull my knives. Epic rising-villain music starts to play in the background (either that or it's the sound of my brain sizzling from that hot-ass bullet, I think I might have just forgotten fifth grade (good, fuckin' hated fifth grade anyway)).
"Don't worry, sweetie," comes his mocking voice from inside. "I've got something really fun still set on a timer!" he makes a pervy little orgasmic sound and I hear him growl out "I love timers."
It's then that I hear the grenade launcher go off. It's this eerie whoosh that makes this strange bastard's coat flap up as several projectiles pass him.
My senses allow me to see them, just barely and I grin as I realize none will hit me. The crowd that is trying to escape any which way but past the Alien is less fortunate. It's a bit like a meat slushy at their points of impact; everybody outside of the blast zone is hit by the shockwave and some kind of shrapnel. I see one of the girls I danced with fly through the air, smashing into the bar, and I grow terribly angry. I was planning on giving up my stint with monogamy for her. Not that I'm actually monogamous. Or am I? How do I really feel about Ciggy besides thinking about her perky little tits?
My dangerous train of thought ends and I simultaneously forget the last 8.6 seconds when the Alien's voice rings out again. "Nice, eh? Kinetic shockwave grenades, they take the tiny particles--" he coughs, still grinning, "--they take the tiny particles at the point of impact and redistribute their kinetic worth, giving off the effect of a nail factory that just exploded without any real shrapnel."
Whatever. Fuck his trivia. I run forward, extending my blades, my wounds healing. "You'll really have to come up with better bullets if you don't want me to cut you into ribbons."
He grins that grin of his widely and says "Not really," before stepping back.
Behind him is a woman in a green outfit and I wonder if I should fight her or ask her to dance. It looks pretty fab with green and white and gold, kind of a badass ball dress or something like that, though with certain... discrepencies, tall black heels and a certain pose that suggests she's used to getting her way. Breaking the baroque domme mold, her lower face is obscured by a bandit/ninja style facemask, though the rest is prettily uncovered.
A whip lashes out (ooh, kinky bitch, I can dig) and grabs my arm just before I get to cut the grin from trenchcoat's face.
She jerks it away and it takes my body with it, though my stomach stays behind (figuratively speaking of course, I didn't get shot again), and she slams me into a wall. As the stars stop dancing before my eyes, she swings me away again and I wonder where she gets the strength.
What the fuck... "Who the hell are all of you guys?" I choke out after spitting out some blood, my caved-in head inflating back to its normal size. I lost my goggles somewhere, I notice through my anger. "Alright, that's it," I finally growl, rushing forward with my karambits to slash the shit out of the ninja cutie.
Suddenly something as big as a gorilla and faster than a bullet blasts into me, sending me soaring through the club's other wall. I glance up, woozy yet again, at my newest assailant and for the first time in my life I feel a little intimidated.
It's about the size of a gorilla (like I said!) and looks like a cross between an ape and a hyena (it's as ugly as that description would make it sound), with high, pointed ears and bright red fur. It has an enormous back and chest, thick bones, and enormous claws and teeth. It snarls down at me and drool drops on my face, smearing my face paint a little (I really need to start using a new brand).
"Meet the Fiend," comes a familiar voice from above me. When I look up toward him, the hyena-faced ape on my chest notices the motion and plucks out one of my eyes with one huge claw, and eats it. The guy above me is the titan I fought at Voltaire's concert, just as big as ever.
"...Wanna hear a really funny joke?" I ask quietly.
"Go on," he says drolly, "just remember that it shall be your last, Joygirl."
I grin up at him. "Knock knock."
He rolls his eyes but politely asks, "Who's there?"
"Fuck your mother." Whew. Man, that was a good one. Been waiting to use that one.
He scowls behind his mask and my smile only grows wider. Trenchcoat and the green-clad cutie are standing above me as well now, big guy's foot on my chest holding me down with very little effort. Best of all, the Fiend just tore off my me-time arm and is ravenously eating it, slobbering and growling loudly as he does.
Maaan... that was my favorite arm. It was just like an arm to me, even! I'm having a terrible day, but I continue to wiggle helplessly under one gigantic metal boot. "I'm JoJo, by the way," says biggie.
"I'm princess Leia of I-Don't-Give-A-Fuck-aran," 'Kay, sorry, that admittedly sounded better in my head.
He chuckles and increases the pressure on my chest and my ribs go one by one like twigs, snap snap snap. I feel them puncture important stuff like my heart and lungs -- an exhilarating sensation but an overall scary one. Imagine... well, actually there's no need for an imaginative metaphor. It's like having all of your vital organs crushed and punctured by your own ribs. Just about that bad.
"Police, firemen, paramedics, hell, probably even the nurses and cops from "Hard Cops 4: All Holes, No Holes Barred" are on their way here. The dead gods of the jagged rift know what kind of capes are following in their wake," says the one in the trenchcoat.
"What?" I force myself to ask.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"I forgot to brush my teeth this morning."
"'S you an alien?" I ask, slightly disjointed (or completely disjointed, if you wanna talk literal).
"C'l," I reply. My body is getting cold and I realize that I've taken a massive amount of damage today.
"Time to conclude this somewhere else then. K'ryl? Green Rose, get the briefcase." JoJo looks up from me and back to his little teatime gang, addressing them in a manner that obviously states that he is the leader.
The Alien sighs, "Everybody hold hands... eh, paws. Shit, you guys have any idea how much I hate touching your fat little monkey fingers? Except yours of course, Rose. You can touch and probe me anywhere."
"Like in Ur--" there is a strange feeling that we all get sucked into, what I can only describe as, a black hole (I know black holes are all kinds of crazy shit with event horizons and whatnot but how else can I describe this?). The air suddenly feels stale and I'm lying on wet cold stone instead of dance floor and gibs.
"Hey someone who understands, nice. FINALLY somebody gets it," K'ryl says. I start to like him.
The orange creature that was busy eating my arm vomits and yelps at this change of scenery. He drops my arm (which is okay, I'm already in the process of regenerating a new one).
"Pretty soon I'll be kicking all your asses, y'know."
"Get her up, it's time to finish this," JoJo says calmly (fuck).
My arm is back sorta, it's this disgusting afterbirth of an embryo looking thing. So, you know, there's that.
The Fiend suddenly jumps for my leg as I lie there, digging his nails in and wanting to take a nice great bite outta it. Before I can decently kick it there's the clash of a whip hitting it on the nose.
"Get back! You had your fill."
"Jeez Rose, I thought Timmy would have slaked his hunger some," The Alien, K'ryl apparently, says in that raspy, sickly little voice.
It growls and whimpers at the Green Rose. Man, she's really a baroque hottie in that outfit. She just slaps it again with her whip and it backs up, grabbing what is left of my arm to sulkily start chewing on that again.
"Rose, get her up," JoJo says again as he gets off of me. I immediately use the opening to dash nowhere and do nothing, as my body is feeling rather like lead that is moving through something akin to flan. Makes sense after just getting nearly all of my bones and/or internal organs repeatedly destroyed as they regrew.
Rose whips my wrist and pulls me up, putting it behind my back she pulls it as high up as it'll go without breaking it and wraps the whip around my neck and forces me to kneel. My sickly new hand is clawing at the whip around my neck but the fingernails come off (fucking sick).
"You know for a normal weapon, this is really a nice gun," the Alien comments with a smirk.
"I'll show you the 'nice' bits of it some time."
JoJo steps forward and holds out his hand for someone to give him something. The Alien puts myfucking gun under his coat and picks up a briefcase. Opening it so I can't see he whistles and hands it to JoJo. Even his whistle is different, and just slightly more unnerving than he is himself.
JoJo inspects the contents and starts speaking again. Man, if Marsellus Wallace's soul isn't in there I'm gonna be really disappointed.
"You're walking a tight line, and you're greatly upsetting some very important people. You do, however, have a lot of potential."
He puts the briefcase in front of me. It is filled with bills... goddamn hundreds. That's almost as good I guess. Actually, no, fuck that, I'm still disappointed.
"There is half a million dollars in this case. It is a gift, and an advance on a job offer. You will either join our operation or you will be crushed underfoot. Work for us and you will make fifty thousand a month, plus bonuses for missions accomplished."
"You can take that money and--"
I suddenly have four small spears sticking out of my chest. The Alien looks pleasantly at this weird gun of his that has four barrels. "No substitute for the classics," he giggles.
JoJo ignores the Alien and gets his face really close to mine, grabbing one of the little spears and slowly pulling it out. Shit, that bastard is barbed. "Think it over, the next time we will not hesitate to kill you and feed you to the Fiend."
Oooh, that would actually probably kill me. Maybe.
I fall forward as the Rose releases me and I feel my strength returning but too slow to actually take any action. JoJo gets off of his knee and walks away, saying "Give it back," to the Alien.
Trenchcoat sighs and opens the chamber, dropping out all the bullets, and then places it in front of me very delicately.
Rose kneels by me and she almost tenderly puts my goggles back in front of my eyes (think my eye is coming back too, phew). I lost both at the club. She lowers her mask and smiles at me a little coyly. Her eyes are a beautiful green at the center and gray at the outside.
"I really like your resilience, come look me up some time and you'll understand the meaning of 'sweetening the deal'." She presses a card in my good hand. I watch her walk away, swinging those nice hips as I try to crawl up.
The Fiend spits a slobbered on glove in front of my face and I realize it was on my me-time arm. Well, I guess I haven't lost anything, I guess, 'cept my dignity.
Minutes pass before I can struggle to my feet. I'm in a ton of pain (slightly past my limit of tolerance, and way past enjoying it), and I look down at myself. Every inch of skin that isn't covered with blood is black with internal bleeding and bruising. My arm looks like that of a young teenager now, not quite right, but close.
I slide the glove on and buckle it into place before standing. It was nice of them to leave me my gear.
Without gear, stalemates a powerful Vampyre
"Where is Amy?"
"Sleeping from all the excitement. Really, you want me in your corner right now. I'm the only one that can pull your fanged bacon out of the oven after that pitiful 'fight' you put up."
"What makes you think you'll do so much better?"
I look at her and put on my best serious face. "Because I'm fuckin' awesome."
She grabs me by my neck and pushes her mouth close to my ear to whisper, "Don't let her fight on her terms, challenge her."
Challenge?! Really... how 70's Sci-Fi.
"How about a wager," I say, smiling at the tall vampire. "I bet I can whoop yo' ass, hand to hand, before the clock reaches 8:30," I point at the clock at the wall that reads around 8:26.
"And if I win?"
"Fuck if I know man, you'll be dead in three minutes, what do you wanna do while being dead?"
The dark-haired bitch says, "My name is Alyssa, little mortal, and I'll be the last thing you'll ever see."
"Mortal? Hardly." I push Vera away, quickly whispering into her ear, "How do I kill her?"
"She's almost impossible to kill... staking her will slow her down, then cut her head off."
Easy peasy, doesn't sound too impossible. There is enough debris of the chair to ram through her chest so I can... ow....
Alyssa is standing awfully close, and her right hand is currently on my back. I just wish she hadn't gone through my liver to get there. She smiles. "You were a cute adversary."
She says I'm cute, that kinda makes me blush as I do my best impression of dying (actually getting an arm slammed through you is pretty cool if you can take it, very... intimate).
"Vera, you chose a bad champion," Alyssa says as she walks forward, tugging back her arm to dispose of me. Her look is kinda precious as she sees that I'm dead but not removable. "Meh?"
"Heeheehee... BOO!" 'Kay she doesn't scare but she still looks amazed as I shove her arm further through my body to get nice and close to her. "You just lost the use of your me-time arm, bitch," I say as I punch her.
She's pretty stunned at the revelation that I'm more than a normal meat sack, it seems. I lean in close, giggling unstoppably as I give her a long, hard kiss before grabbing both sides of her skank-ass head and snapping that pretty neck. Her eyes roll back and she slides away from me,*poomf*ing into smoke before seeming to just... reform, this time perfectly intact. Damn. So vamphyres are the tough ones.
She rushes me and I dodge, something she clearly wasn't expecting, as her momentum carried her halfway across the room. By the time she turns, I'm already close to her and knock her the rest of the way across the room with one super pimpslap (keep your pimp hand strong! yeeeeeeeah!). Most of her face is gone when she stands back up but it heals back quick. Damn quick. It always looks so easy when Blade wastes vampires, apparently I underestimated his skill.
Either that or my vamp's just better than his.
Holy shit, someone left nachos! I rush over to the desk, just barely outrunning "Alyssa" and just as that crispety, crunchety, cheesy treat touches my lips I feel her stretched fingers through the back of my skull.
And all I wanted was one little nacho. I feel some brains ooze out the front of my head (braaaaainssss...) and turn slowly, taking the bite of nacho anyway. It's all I had hoped for -- just like when I ninja-kicked miss fangfuck in the face and sent her to the other side of the room. Oh, did I not mention that yet? Well I did it... just like, a second ago.
She stands up again and I'm getting sick of seeing that. I glance up at the clock. Two minutes left! That's actually more than I was expecting, I guess we move quick. Sadly, however, I get lost in the clock's infinitely swirling hands... tick... tock... tick... tock... OW.
And I've honestly never been torn entirely in half before! Shows what you get for getting distracted by things like clocks (stupid clocks and their hands and ticky sounds). With my left arm I grab my right nipple, and pull myself back together. Okay, time to get serious. I start laughing uncontrollably, driven dizzy from all the pain, and tall, pale, and sexy starts looking a little nervous for the first time. I giggle madly as I rush her. She's going down this time, 'cause she doesn't even know what I have hidden behind my left shoulder blade.
I grab a pair of scissors and jam them into my own back (Crap, fitting this in here was a bitch, getting it out seems to be a similar experience). I pull out a small rectangle of black metal (oh one and a half minutes left, I'm getting fucked up really quickly and really heavily here). It fits prettily in my hand, though it's a bit small, and it has a little slide on it. It's a bit slippery and bloody in my fingers and I feel myself wheeze. Shit, I'm taking tremendous damage yet again, but at least it's all simple healing and not much total regeneration.
Oh, back to the little rectangle box, it cost me more than the Porsche Boxter I got for Amy (and interestingly enough bought from the Jamaican on the same day). I slide the little lever forward and this film thin blade slides out, it's see-through and I slide it out to the max. Really, cutting someone's head off with this thing should be a cinch. I flick it through the table that surprisingly enough, still stands. It cuts in half in anime fashion (at first you see nothing until the halves slowly slide from each other etc. etc. but it's more funny on a test pig or human). It cuts just as easily through steel as it does through babies (What, you didn't think science had advanced? This thing is a molecule thick, the only reason it shows a blade is because it's more marketable if you can see it. Sadly, the battery life on this thing is like close to two minutes or so and batteries have not been made for public (or black market for that matter)).
I jump forward and just cut her fucking arm off and miss pale and sexy Alyssa is somewhat taken aback. She grows some back, and it makes me kinda envious.
She punches me back and breaks my sternum as I try to cut off her head while screaming "THERE CAN ONLY BE OOOOONE!" (failing, sadly). Staggering backwards is not good for that. Man this 'Vampireah' biatch is giving me shit.
She's actually good, interestingly my grudging looks are mirrored by her. I look at the clock, thirty goddamn seconds left, and her look follows mine.
She looks back and smiles, and I can only answer in kind (I smile twice bitch, once in makeup and once with my own mouth, I win). The seconds tick away and the only thing we hear is Vera's panting.
Finally it's time and she cocks her head. "And now, little morsel?"
"Now..." I shrug, "now it's a draw."
Easily defeats Ghostrunner w/ prep (showcasing new abilities)
Suddenly I hear a faint whooshing sound, like a bird flying out of a tree from very far away. There are no trees here, or birds... but then again, I have motherfuckin' super hearing so it could be veryfuckin' far away. I take the next leap anyway, bouncing from the side of a shoe store to the side of a World Market (I actually like the place, don't tell Amy), deciding to throw caution to the winds. I decide I probably should have paid attention to my super-senses when I run into an electrified tripwire spun directly between my two destinations.
Fuck, now that had to have just been set there. And me with my super hearing didn't notice.
"BRBLRBARGHALRBARGHABLEBLEBLEBLEBLEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!" I fall on my face but it's okay. The makeup was tough enough to take it. But will it be tough enough to handle whatever fucker just ran that tripwire and thinks they "have" me?
As I get up I feel a sharp prick against my neck.
"I'll give you one chance to give yourself up."
I giggle but that just... kinda... hurts a little, what with the knife/sword/ice pick (dunno what it is from here) in the back of my head.
"Why do you give me one chance, I mean if I was me I'd've killed me twice." Oooooh, and would have too, you can't trust that clown bitch.
I hear her (I can tell it's a she from her voice) pause as she processes my answer.
"No games, I--"
At that I say "Hhhwhy?" again, like the smoking caterpillar, and get up the way I was planning to if I had not had the stabby thing at my back. It impales my head and I go a bit farther, making the blade come out of my mouth (that's new). Man, talk about deep throat, heehee. I spasm and make the 'hideous gurgle' sound and fall forward.
She's about to lose the initiative. She gets to one knee, and I hear her breathing. She reaches out (some kind of leather outfit, pretty creaky for someone so sneaky... hehe, that rhymed, shoulda been a troll) and slowly puts her hand on my shoulder....
See this is why heroes are stupid, proper protocol would be: 'It's a trick. Get an axe.'
Instead, Girly leans in (Not too sure who it is... could be that girl Lisa from the department store. Ooooh, or maybe Anna that I met on the street, and I looked up her dress and tickled her panties? Oh oh oh maybe it's Amy! Naaah, Amy doesn't stab stuff.) and slowly rolls me over (fuck, I thought this one mighta been kinda smart), and immediately takes a bullet from Talon right in the forehead. It sends her flying back (a little odd; I didn't know we were in a Robert Rodriguez movie) and she slams into the stone wall opposite of me. I stand up casually, my head and mouth fully healed.
Oh, shit, it's that ninja bitch! Explains why she flew back instead of dropping like a fly... the bullet didn't penetrate her (hehe, I said penetrate). However, there's a huge ugly bruise on her forehead and if I were her I wouldn't go to sleep for like, a while. Or go swimming for at least... like an hour. Yeah, a good hour.
There are cracks in her visor again and she (I shit you not) takes a kung-fu pose. I guess I pissed her off royally since her body is tensed up as shit. She jumps forward swinging that sword around like she means business. Good I've got a majilliun things I wanna try on you biatch.
I holster my gun and pull out the meteor hammer (goddess I love the sound of that name) and just pull the ball out showing the metal wire in between. I fend off the blade with it and let that pully make a wide arc for her neck. She fends if off with her arm, but the chain just swings around that, and I pull the wire tight. Using my ultralibrium to nail myself to the floor (I've started figuring out how to make myself heavy too, neat huh?) I swing her over the side of the building in one smooth motion.
I look over the side to see her sprawled body on the ground and... I look down upon an empty alleyway. Did ninja-tits just pull a Batman on me?
"That. Is. So. Cool." I whisper.
Although I did really wanna bash her skull in.
I casually spin the jack-O-lantern ball over my head, kinda hoping she'll return. I'm tired of these quick little fights with this runner... I mean, really, what ninja clan teaches you to retreat at every possible opportunity? I sigh, but that quickly turns into a sharp "URK" sound as I'm split from va-jay-jay to jugular by a bigass ninja sword. I fall onto the groud, the hammer bouncing behind me. I hear some whispering, and as I concentrate I can hear the *whoosh* of her lifting her sword to finish the job. Fuck! She actually watched Army of Darkness in between the forty-five seconds in which I pwn'd her.
I quickly roll out of the way, leaving my pancreas behind (I loved my pancreas, though!) and swinging the big ball and chain towards her face as she chops at air. It smashes hard into her midsection and I feel like that badass schoolgirl bitch from Kill Bill. I even try to put a serious gameface on for it... But the attempt alone makes me burst out laughing, even as my intestines unravel.
"Heyheyhey, guess what this reminds me of," I say, smiling wickedly and widely.
The ninja stares back and just as I'm about to answ--
I just stare at her faceplate, the gall of that bitch. "...Fuck you, it's not funny if you say it yourself you cunt." I swing the hammer round and round and strike at her. She deflects it with her sword (sending the ball zooming behind her) and kicks me in my stomach. Not a total failure, though, as I managed to whip out one of my short blades and get her leg with it. No blood but I see some nice pale skin under her leathers (oooohh).
She's angry now, I guess, aims her blade at my center mass. Shoulda paid attention to the meteor, though, honey, it's destined to meet your knee.
She goes down before that blade can even harm me, though her follow-up cuts off my left leg. Swell.
I lose my balance and use ultralibrium to regain it (Me, the only supervillain (or super-anything) in all of comicdom with balance powers, lose my balance? Nevah! Oh, I just realized that I should go a few rounds (and by rounds I mean milliseconds) with Count Vertigo, see how his dizziness shit works on me), then place the stump of my leg back on my hip. It reattaches instantly.
She stares at me with a look of amazement. I understand how she feels. I'm awesome.
To drive that feeling home a little more I kick her in her face with my newly healed foot. It hurts enough for me to actually rub my leg and make up some colorful curse words to compliment it.
I bounce backwards and swing the ball and chain towards her face... or do I? Actually, no. I didn't. I swing it behind her face, or at least that's where I aim. As she sees the grinning iridium ball zooming toward her she dodges out of the way, putting her head just to the side of it. It zooms past, just like we both expected it would. Only she didn't take into account the elasticity of the high-tech wire. I giggle freakishly as the ball zooms back in the arc that I predicted, the ball smashing into the back of ninja-cunt's head and sending her frail little body soaring about twenty feet forward. I giggle and drop the hammer, drawing my knives. Guns never worked on you, bitch, but now it's time for some real fun.
She swings her blade expertly I suppose but... that really doesn't stop me. I'm faster than her. I catch it under one of my blades, knee her in her kidneys (yes, both at once). It throws off her balance. I put my blade at the side of her back and yank it forward (ladies and gentlemen, I'm hoping for blood and guts here). I don't get any of that, but I do gash her suit under her arm from her back to her tit.
That's just really really annoying. What did I do to bleed her last time, I wanna taste her -- is that sideboob? No, wait, really; a healthy girl like me has to know. I think it is.
Ninjette grunts a little and does some pretty snazzy moves, but I duck and then dodge away, mostly to her left where her suit is hanging open. Oh me oh my! That is actually rather nice. I pocket my right handed blade, this will be a bit like those old timing puzzles in the old platform games Amy used to play with those spikey traps. She makes a straight stab at me and I let her have the side of me, driving the blade through and grabbing the hilt tightly with both her hands under mine. The other hand zips out and drives itself under the tear and over her boob. My speed and enhanced mind get to feel some sweet, sweaty flesh and a nipple before she screams and kicks me in my uterus (my favorite uterus). I fall back, I can't see that nipple but I felt it. Ooh yeah.... I think I need to see what I felt.
"Hey how about I make this easy, you strip for me and we'll call the assault on my person even?"
Goddamn bitch answers with throwing stars, they're sharper and heavier than you'd think.
"Push the wrong button did I? Nothing wrong with getting a bit excited by a fight, mine are hard as rocks too," I say, pulling down the bodice a bit and showing her one pierced nipple, grinning madly.
She angrily slashes at me. Conversation with her is getting boring.
"Now, now, I showed you mine, time to show me yours."
Runnerslut hacks at me again, and I notice that she's attacking harder, and maybe faster, but with nowhere near the accuracy -- oh snap! I did that old movie-style shit, where you get your enemy so pissed they get sloppy? I totally wasn't even trying. Whatever, this should make things even easier.
I leap into the air and start pushing my ultralibrium all around me, "falling" in each direction… front, left, back, right, front, left, back, right, frontleftbackright, frontleftbackright, frolebari, frlbr... I turn into a hovering tornado of sorts, my knives extended, and start moving towards her by focusing my subjectional gravity on her for just a moment longer than the others (Psycho Crusherrr).
She starts backing away, and I'm sure her eyes are wide with horror under that stupid fucking visor (I didn't even know I could do this, it's awesome), but I'm starting to pick up speed now, and my blades are inching ever closer to her outfit.
I giggle madly the first time I hear steel rip leather, and push forward even further, making sure (even though I can't see that well going round 'n' round and I'm getting kinda dizzy) to aim for her chest, I just have to see those tits and I know I will soon.
She backflips several times to distance herself, and throws more of those fucking stars. That's not how you play this, bitch.
I drop my ultralibrium and gracefully land on the ground, her stars missing me, as I easily avoid them. It's not an Uzi, honey, where you just squeeze a clip of rounds in anger at a general direction. That would be way too stylish for you.
I catch one, taking its momentum from it with my power and twirl it around my finger by its hole. "Really, not good enough. You're... just a bargain basement heroine aren't you?"
Yeah that got her back on the offensive side of stupid. I clutch one of my karambits again and jump behind a smokestack. She slices that thing in half (and cuts my throat but, really that's not as noteworthy, since the only lasting damage is to the stack), and as it slides away anime style I kick it towards her, brick and mortar hit her unexpectedly, and I jump past.
She staggers back but I grab her in a one-armed headlock, it will only immobilize her for a moment since I'm holding both of her arms down with only one of mine, but it gives me time to make two quick slashes before dropping my blade. She headbutts me with the back of her head, breaking my nose. To repay the favor I slam her head forward on the stack stump, seemingly dazing her (blunt force seems particularly effective with her, slashy/stabby not so much).
I now just got a nice few seconds for some superheroine sexual harassment. I grab her breast, and since I have the time of daze I do it rather gently, feeling the weight and lusciousness of the one I cut free. Ooh it's beautiful and warm, with cool sweat. A little bit bigger than mine, but… she's still asian, y'know. But that's cool, I'm not a size queen or anything.
Just before she regains full sense, I let go and twirl her around. "And they look pretty too," I say with a smile. She realizes what I mean and holds her hand over her chest.
I wonder if she's shaven. On the one hand, hair under such a suit must suck, on the other.... a little hair would look so much cuter on that little ninja. And it's a great way to see if she has natural black hair and isn't just a faker ninja. I mean she does have green eyes and that is not really an asian thing I think.
I decide to try some new moves on this bitch... after all, she's just weak enough to not be a serious threat, and just tough enough to be some good practice. She's like a sexy supervillain tutorial.
I use my ultralibrium to its fullest, alternating between weightless and extra-heavy for maximum effect, and it seems to do nicely. She has difficulty dodging attacks that go at terminal velocity, and while my attacks don't cut her (though she does, oddly enough, have a few stray cuts that I just can't understand, since my most powerful attacks don't do shit), they're slowly slicing her outfit to ribbons. Our little dance of death keeps going, and I can tell she's tired and hurt from my blunt attacks, and I don't think she has super stamina like I do. She's getting sloppy.
Within a few more moments of fast-paced combat, both breasts and most of her belly are exposed, one arm is totally naked, and... ooh, ooh, and... shwip shwip shwip!
Awww, so cute! Her pubiez are indeed black (such exotic eyes!) and they're trimmed into the same Nightwing-esque pattern that she has on the back of her suit! That's… hehe, that's dedication to a theme….
The one eye that I can see (smashed in a bit of her visor a minute ago) widens with horror, and she drops her sword to cover her downstairs-bits. She turns and fires off two lines from her gloves, one to her sword, and the other to her far-off hoverboard, and both zoom toward her as she prepares to escape.
She makes a quick motion to the floor and... hey, I know that one, there should be a poof of smoke and then she'll disappear. I jump for her as the little poof erupts and she jumps away. I grab her leg, however, and pull her down in the gravel on the roof. She keeps trying to get up after that tackle but I'm on her back, pressing her down (resistance is futile!).
"I asked you a question," I say pulling her head up by her hair. Grabbing both her hands I tie rope them tightly together with the wire from the meteor hammer and turn her over. Her tummy is quite a nice seat -- hey I'm cowgirling her, yeehaw!
Getting out one of my blades I hold it in front of her. I know she has a wonky impervious power but she must have that mask for a reason.
I suddenly realized that I never actually asked her a question, and she looks as confused as I suddenly feel. I decide to repeat what I think I forgot about thinking (owwww, my nog-nog). "What. Is. Your. Name?!" I say holding the tip of my karambit in front of the eye hole. She seems a bit scared by this… interesting.
"I know you're invulnerable and everything, but you have all these facial openings I can jam you don't wanna know what down." Yes, a bucket of elephant sperm has already crossed my mind. "So this is me, asking politely, please tell me your name."
I see hesitation in her pretty green eyes (she can give Vera a run for her money), and fear. I move my ass a bit further back to her pelvis and lay myself down, breast to naked breast.
"Just your name, please," I say sincerely.
"See, now that wasn't so hard. Since we have this... intimate moment together, there are three things I want to tell you.
A. I didn't kill no one at that club, why would I kill pretty girls I was planning on fucking?
2, I blew the shit out of an illegal mob casino for shits and giggles, and,
III, you--" She struggles under me and I jam the knife in her eye hole, not deep but she now knows I'm serious. I grind my crotch a bit on hers.
"Fuckin' III, you have a beautiful little body. Really, love the way your breasts look and feel and everything." With that I kiss her visor, leaving a black lipstick kiss and get up, untie her and jump down the roof, leaving Ghostrunner stunned.
Burns down a Wendy's
I start walking back to my manhole. It'll be getting light soon and I desperately wanna get a crispy chicken club from Wendy's before Amy starts pushing to get out. Or… wait a minute. They fucking discontinued the crispy chicken club? THAT'S MY FAVORITE FUCKING THING THERE.
I burn down the Wendy's and head back home.
Is too crazy for pheromone control
I casually spit out the studs and do a quick flip with the chains still attached to my wrists, getting some air before driving my ultralibrium back towards the floor. I land in a crouch as the chains around my wrists shatter, and dust comes up from the ground and everything, making it seem kinda like that ground pound move in Yoshi's Island.
I turn to my Mistress and giggle, and her eyes widen slightly. "You... you cannot disobey me! I own you! Chain yourself back up!"
"That's boring though! C'mon Mistress, five dollah sucky sucky, me love you long time!" I reach forward and grab her firm tits, making a little "honk honk" motion with them and grinning. Smoke starts coming out of Mistress's ears, it looks pretty neat, though it could just be a hallucination. After all, her feet are made of tiny ninjas too and I don't remember them being that way.
Gives a good fight to Agent Blaze before he damages her inner ears
Suddenly a feel a blade press against my neck and I grin widely. It's her, it's gotta be her.
"Heard my mating call, huh Ghostie?" I coo, and start turning around, the blade slicing my throat as I do. It heals before it bleeds but the shock to my sense of reality takes a little longer. For, lo and behold, in front of me is not my sweet little azn harlot. It's some big weirdo in a black Power Rangers outfit with some kinda juicy sword that looks suspiciously similar to my Styx Obsidian karambits, that same deep, lusterless black. Huh.
"Hi." I say. "Are you the Black Ranger?"
He looks at me for a second and then rams a thick syringe in my head. It's an old one, with those silver handles that have holes in 'em, and he injects something. I draw my gun but drop it as this terrible massive headache erupts in my head. I spasm back, ass over teakettle.
"Wh-ut...--...--... the-uh-uh...--...--... Fucccckkkkk!" I manage to choke out between fits. It feels like my brain is on fire. I thought the brain wasn't supposed to feel! Argh, this shit sucks.
I see his dark form looming over me and then finally bending down and taking the thick syringe and now drawing that bastard full. The liquid is grey and pink and I think it was mah thought meahtzllllll....
I black out, what's a girl to do.
And then I pop back in, life's funny that way when you have a healing factor that makes Wolverine's looks like a little bitch. He's sitting up a bit further, on a lawn chair someone left to use for sunbathing or rooftop beer drinking I guess. He's playing with these small glass vials that have these gray liquids inside them.
Without looking at me he answers, "Yes."
My eyes focus again, my headache fades but my temper disapproves. "What wuz that?" I say, shaking my head.
"Modified arachnid venom, liquefies tissue. Allows me to take easy tissue samples for test." He packs four neat little tubes of my brain into this metal box and puts it in a pouch on his belt. His eyes are deep red and I recognize those... I think. I don't remember the mask though. It's this jet black plate covering his face, a bit like that of roman plays, but it only has eyes. Above it there is this messy black oily hair. He stands and snaps his fingers before my eyes. They're like iron or something, and make a terrible fucking sound. What is this guy, his hands like his face, only they seem to be made of these liquid metal claws, like someone poured metal into hands... but they move. It's all very confusing and difficult to describe, we'll go over it when this gets some proper artwork.
"What is your name." he asks. His voice is very blank and I don't like it. This guy needs an attitude adjustment.
"Great, another one who doesn't know who I am..." I grumble. "I am a respected and vilified member of the community, I'll have you know."
"Hmm… you should not even have a memory left after the damage I did. Interesting." He pauses. "Total reconstruction of synapses. I'll call Squad 7, they can deal with your sort and lock you away."
I glance down at the gun in my hand, and smile adoringly. "Ah, Talon." He looks at me and I blast him full in the face and chest. Nine little big presents of death. Now the one on his head connects, right between the eyes, the others head off for other parts (neck, chest and stomach). The smoke clears as I pat myself off and look at him. He's still alive. "Good," I grumble. I really need a workout.
He had deflected or stopped the other bullets with the palms of his hands. They're bulletproof like his face plate. Not a scratch, not even on his mask. He stands and I swear he's made of night. His suit is simple, there is the mask and his gloves and this thick looking black suit. A shoulder holster, a belt with pouches (neat), some odd flaps hanging from there, like on a Imperial Snow Trooper, and boots.
"I'll see that, and raise you," he says. Hey, it was a decent excuse for a catchphrase, at least. He then draws this hugeass automatic hand cannon, and I think I'm in love for a fleeting moment until I realize....
"Hey, I know that gun."
It sounds like the gun on a battleship and even as it tears a hole through my chest I cream a little in my pants... I think.
It's really bad. I feel a strange emptiness through the soul-freezing pain and look down. There's a hole about the size of a baseball in my torso, and I can see through it (which is, admittedly, pretty awesome). I look back up at the guy and frown.
"Wait, I got it. You're the new Venom, the Flash Thompson one. Right?"
He shakes his head. I huff.
"Eh, whatever. Eddie Brock's the only good one anyway."
The hole closes up. It takes a couple of seconds but then I'm good as new, even if I'm not really sure what to do against this guy... though, if Talon couldn't hurt him... maybe… ooh, demonic knives! (^___^) Kikikikiki!
I draw my two karambits and dash forward, and he responds by pulling out two long, single-edged swords. Not quite as classy as Ghostrunner's katana but pretty nice nonetheless. Our blades clash and I'm pretty pissed that he was able to parry my attack, so I amp up the pace. I've got super speed, bitch, you don't!
Seems he might, actually. Swipe swipe swipe, I flip the blade in my left hand around for an uppercut strike and aim the one in my right for his neck. Parry parry parry, his swords go low and high and sweep around in a circular motion, knocking my shorter knives backwards as quickly as I can attack him.
Why is it that everyone I meet is superpowered and such a fucking bitch about everything? Can't there be just one Batman archetype out there that I can humiliate?
I growl and leap forward again, using my ultralibrium on a cloud to float above The Guyver's head and launch a flurry of attacks at his throat. He bends back Neo-style and creates a web of metal with his blades, spinning them back and forth and once again deflecting my attacks.
Which really fucking pisses me off.
But you know what? I have something he does not, dispensable limbs.
Also I can get under your skin like an Alabama tick, but that's neither here nor there.
I slash through his defense in a manner that would be suicidal for anybody but me. I lose my arm and hear the blade clatter on the roof. He growls or screams or whatever, I cut him over his chest and feel the blade scrape over his ribs. He kicks me away and then rolls to safety, hunching over and clutching the wound. I stare for a second in disbelief. It's like he bleeds tar.
He stands, and his eyes flare up. I pick up my arm and put it back on the stump, half a second passes and I give him the finger with it. I see him clench his fist and the gash closes -- it looks more like he did that himself, rather than automatic healing.
"You know what, give my back my brain and I'll let you go."
He draws his gun again, but this time he can blow himself, 'cause I'm not catching that again. The smokestack behind me explodes when I dodge.
I roll over the ground, fist clenched on my only blade, and dash towards him. I 'guide' him with my free hand, pushing both of his arms to the side. I feel a sword get stuffed into my gut, and those awful claws rake over my face, but I don't pay attention to that. My karambit goes for the pouch on his belt -- I want those IQ points back dammit. I miss, and slash across his abs, not as deep as I'd want. He seems really upset now but fuck that. I've about had my fill of this guy and I want my gray-that-matters back.
I direct my center of gravity to his nuts and Blanka Ball toward him, to which I receive another blast from that marvelous pistol. I told myself I wouldn't get shot again, but... you know how things go. Anyway, the blast tears a hole right through me but I don't stop moving forward, since I'm technically falling. Eventually he has to either get out of the way or take the Face Bite so he ducks to the side, allowing me to do what I really wanted.
I drop to a lower roll and land on the ground in time to pick up my other knife, then stand back up as my wounds heal. "I didn't want it to be this way... just wanted a drink and some head and now you're fucking with my brain, which really… isn't… okay. You know, just because I'm a villain doesn't mean I should have to deal with fucktwigs like you every time I put my fucking makeup on."
He stops, putting his gun back and drawing those inky swords again. He doesn't reply.
"Just give me back what's mine and we can go our separate ways. I've had enough violence this week." Never thought I'd hear myself say that.
He starts running forward, and I sigh. No rest for the wicked.
At the last moment, as that black blade swishes towards me, I jump up and over him. His second blade follows me but I am above him now. I shift my gravitational weight, falling straight down on top of him -- and both of his swords. Damn he's quick. He stabs me all the way through my chest. He growls and tries to throw me off, but I'm anchored to him now. My blades enter him and tear streaks over his chest. He seems visibly shaken and I kick his legs out from under him as a reward. Fuck, he lands on his hands, still holding his blades, and bounces up again, but this time I'm fully dislodged and go flying not too far from him, my wounds already healed.
'S okay. I slash to his belt where he is keeping my piece of mind. He turns away so I only damage the case a little. Jumping close I headbutt him (ow, fuck!), but he still bleeds (I think healing might be a conscious decision for him) and he wobbles. I Wolverine-carve an X over his abdomen and kick him back against a smokestack (those things are all over the place!).
He snarls like an animal and I suddenly realize I'm really bored with him.
"Oh, come on, dude. Just give me back my brains. Don't be a dick about this."
He responds with a surprisingly acrobatic (for a guy without ultralibrium) charge, flipping and weaving towards me with those blades extended.
I hold my ground.
At the very last second, as those swords weave in to sever me, I dodge inward, slipping between his swords. Calling up every ounce of my superhuman strength and speed, I use my own knives to push his arms apart and open him up, and then deliver a devastating flying knee directly to his chest.
He seems to care about that, which pleases me. He staggers back and makes a weird coughing/gurgling/way gross sound, but I don't want for him to recover. My knives go for that belt, the unrealistically sharp blades slicing through all four glass vials in one fell swoop.
The pouch cuts open, and the last vial teeters and then drops. He stares at it as I reflexively catch it. "Hehehe piece of mind," I say and pop off the cap and down the hatch it goes.
...Groooooosssssss your own brain does not taste very good. He looks down as the other vials drip down his leg. He tenses up, clenching his fists and then unclenching them like some kind of Zen exercise.
"Sooooo... now I've won the little game of "catch mah brain", what now? Gonna try it again? You'll need this." I say holding up his big ass syringe (yeah, didn't fill you in (dramatic effect), but that was what I was grabbing with my other hand as I went for my brainstuff).
He sighs. "No use, that was the only arachnid venom. He looks at the cut vials and then back at me.
Just in time to get the syringe jammed in his chest.
He curses and grabs me by my neck, it's like a steel vice. "You know what helps against healers like you?"
"Whhrrrlt?"(that was "what?" but since there is no air escaping from my lungs I've got nothing to say.
"Full body impact damage."
He lets go and I stagger back, breathing in precious, precious oxygen. He then he slams those metal hands palms-flat on my ears. I think my skull might crack, it hurts so much. My ears pop in the most horrible fashion. After that a quick kick to the chest throws me off the roof....
Ha ha, sucker, I've got ultralibrium! I can slow myself down... any time...? I guess those two trails of blood my falling body (I'm falling on my back) is leaving behind are from my ears... I wonder when I'll reach the st--.
Wait a sec. I take a minute to think about this whole... thing. Now, I'm not big on biology or anything like that but I remember Amy reading something about your inner ear having something to do with your balance. And The Dark Knight over there just broke my ultralibrium....
Shit, does this mean I have a weakness? What a shitty fucking weakness... oh, fuck.... Okay, nobody can know about this. Joygirl, the most deadly and totally awesome villainess the world has evar seen, can be done in by having her ears boxed.
Oh, and pavement really hurts.
Once the jell-O has gone out of my bones (kay kay, wasn't that bad) and my ears stop bleeding (was done by the time I realized the pain of pavement) I hop back on the roof. Tall black and silent is gone, leaving a destroyed rooftop and a wet spot where my brain spilled in the gravel of the roof. Down the street I hear sirens and there is a police chopper coming this way. Guess you can't silence the sound of that fucking machine he fires. I take off, fuck this shit and fuck tonight and fuck… I'm still horny.
Joygirl explains her powers to Amy
"You have done well, young mint-and-chocolate flavored cookie. Now you must learn that a Joygirl's power flows from the nipples."
"You idiot," I sigh out and straighten the couch again before sitting down. It's odd to think that I really am her. I have her powers and can do the things she does... at least, my body can. And I may not be quite as good at wall-walking as she is, but... but I can get better.
"Actually I'm pretty sure I'll always be better than you," Joy pipes up. "When I got my chemistry set and books I started running a couple of blood tests. A lot of my strength comes from mutated adrenaline, which I can tap into at any time because I'm craayaayaayaayzee."
"Since when do you know anything about chemistry? I don't, and you're just a weird copy of me, right?"
"I've always been right there inside you, like a weird absorbed twin-thing."
"Yeah, but you never had autonomy until now."
"Until the accident, sure, I guess, but I was the one who protected you your whole silly life."
"What?!" Alright, now I'm pissed. Who is she to start assigning herself roles?
"Remember little Billy Rhodes? When we were ten and he bullied you because he was bigger and two years older and because you wore those retarded braces?"
"He... made fun of my pigtails, and...."
"Prison rules apply just as hard in school as in... uh, prison."
"That was you that kicked him in the balls?" I don't like this. All of a sudden the line is blurring, and I'm less sure where I end and she begins.
"No no, I told you to kick him in the balls when he pulled your hair and socked you in the mouth. And you did, and that was the first time I knew that we would be alright."
I feel a little cold and weird.
"I was your instinct made flesh... well, mental flesh I guess."
"And that time in the construction yard?"
"Yeah I'm sorry for that one, I didn't know that beam would be that thin (and you were such a clumsy cow back then), and after that I retreated... not totally sure why. I guess I can only be as strong and active as our body can handle, and our body can handle a lot now. So now, I can flex my muscles to the point where I could move your arms around when you aren't paying attention and then when your brain shuts off, instead of having sex with you in your dreams, I one day just walked out of your head and into the world."
"You did not have had sex with me in my dreams!"
"You'll never know now, will you?" She giggles evilly, I can feel her licking my brain. "Anyway, at first it was like you were sleepwalking, I couldn't quite get the walls up properly so it was a bit like piloting a bulldozer, aaaand I though life was shitty and dull, and breathing and walking were a fucking paaaain... wait, where was I? I rarely talk this much without a break in paragraph, sorry. Oh right, so when I fell on the kitchen knife I was manhandling I realized that this going to be fucking awesome. From there I just tried everything, can I fly, can I walk on the wall, can I pick up a baby, can I pick up a car, can I eat a fire hydrant, do I have super reflexes, can I shoot beams from my eyes, can I grow a dick, etc, etc, etc (oh, the answers to those are, in order: no, yes, yes, kinda yes, yes but with a lot of effort, yes, no, sadly no, yes, no and not on your life)."
"See that is your problem, if you had cut your finger after the accident, what would you have done? The wound would have been closed before you could reach a bandage... and you'd look around if nobody had seen you and you would have ignored it. So this is your instinct speaking: get off your tired busted ass and live for yourself, because I sure as shit aren't going to advise you anymore."
I just sit morosely on my couch.
"Walk on the wall again and I'll leave you alone for today. It's my... hmmm, un-birthday gift to you. But keep your eyes open this time."
I don't have any trouble making my head spin this time around. Knowing that she's been in my head all along, knowing that, somehow, we're the same person, is making me feel sick. I stand up and walk towards the wall, gritting my teeth before stepping onto it, imagining it as the floor. I scowl behind me, at the "floor", as if she's still there.
"There. Now... please, just go."
Easily defeats a metahuman swat team
"Codename Jester nowhere to be seen, Barnett written off," reported one of the ex-MSeals, looking around the area with the sight on his rifle. He'd never seen anything like this -- the Metas were the toughest of the government's various elite forces, yet one of their best had already been butchered. He had no intention of getting used to th—
"Surprise!" I drop down from a hidden nook up high, flipping to shoulder-level and decapitating one of these military agent ninja guys. He's got a squad of about twenty behind him, all armed to the teeth. I giggle and start to wade through them, my ultralibrium letting me zoom back and forth, falling aimlessly out of the way of their every "expert" attack and taking a jugular vein with me. This is just too easy... now that I've learned to use my powers a little better non-omega chumps like this are barely even a challenge.
"Reform!" one shouts, "cybers at the front, beam weapons on the second line."
"Aw, you pansies, can't stop me with just little bits of cyber, I cut through that," I say, and subsequently demonstrate. Before I can cut this throat, however, another fuckhead runs by and clotheslines me. I swing up, cutting the side of his face. Bone, skin, flesh or metal, it's all butter to me.
I whip Talon out, don't see anyone with a backpack fulla fuel though so I go dodge some bloke and pop him in his kneecap and groin. His scream is like that of a television on static. What are these bozos, anyway...?
Their fighting is changing however, becoming more in union, using firepower to cover each other. One shoots flame from his hands as I go to stab him, half my body is engulfed in hotness that had nothing to do with my natural state of being. It doesn't deter me, however, and I cut off the fingers of his outstretched hand and jump, flaming and all, in between them. Their numbers matter little, and now that my arm and side are on fire they don't want to go into a fist fight either.
Some extremely heavy caliber bullet hits me and slams me into a wall, which, admittedly, is a bit less fun than the sting of the lasers and smaller ammo. I scramble up, they got their bead on me and all I can do is smile. I'm on fire, got wounds to be healed, smacked all around and I feel gooooood. I cackle madly as I jump through their hail of bullets.
I kinda feel like in V for Vendetta when the guy walks out all fiery. Only difference is he's permanently hurt, whereas I'll be fine -- probably. Haven't had a ton of experience with fiyah but we'll see how it goes, right?
I feel what seems to be hundreds of bullets scream through my body. I dodge the ones I can, which is a hell of a lot, but you can't get out of the way of an entire solid sheet of lead. I let the bullets blast me, the holes sealing up almost as quickly as they're made, though not quite.
I spin my crescent-shaped blades in circles, trying to do it quick enough for them to look like black circular saws on then ends of my arms. After a second or two my momentum gets going, and the blades zoom faster. They start sawing through flesh, wire, armor, guns, faces -- their bullets are nothing compared to my blades, and these SWAT noobs are falling in groups of five. Things are just so much fun when your opponent is not fast enough to dodge you, or tough enough to take your hits. It's like being a liger in a field of capybaras. Or somethin'.
"Dammit, take her down or retreat, change to low velocity, high impact rounds."
I flash through them, there are a lot but they are falling like playing cards before a man with a scythe (ooh, I'm on fire! Oh wait, I actually am still on fire...). Arm here, leg there, as bullets pelt my skin and just add more scars, but nothing to stop -- I start spinning backwards like one of those capoeira guys, and I'm suddenly immersed in gravel. WTF?
The next burst of machine gun fire had taken me off my feet and slammed me back, I notice now. "Shit, seriously guys, what the hell?"
This must be what they were talking about, the bullets don't rip through me like the others. Well this life just got better. I'll call this game "bullet dodg--"
Right between my eyes.
Shit, this fucking thing isn't going through, I have lead stuck in my face. I pop it out with my knife while the others reload, and then jump straight between them. One fires off in an arc and he riddles his comrade with instant tummy ache.
"You up the ante and I just move faster, you riddle me with bullets and I just spit them back!" Fluid that isn't blood sprays on my face as I tear out a jugular.
"We need evac-- we-- AAAIRRLGH!!!"
Two knives in your eyes will do that. I kick his squirming body off of my blades and shout, "Nobody leaves here until Headmistress Joygrrl sez so! And you all have been very very naughty!" I say in my best Bayonetta voice.
Think about half of 'em are dead, so many faceless dead people, such horror, such carnage. I want to stop and think, to take it all in. To cry a little at all the lost souls and realize the loss of their families... at least I would if I was Amy. "Who's next?!"
I whizz through their ranks, using my ultralibrium to become an invincible tornado of sorts. I zoom through them and the sheer amount of mayhem I create is... just... precious. I can't help but laugh at the top of my lungs as I become drenched with the blood, oil, and other ichors of these barely-super n00blets.
I sever a head, rip through a heart, and chop off a few limbs. It's kinda odd -- with most games, they get harder as you go along. But with this (extremely fun) game, it just keeps getting easier. When each man goes down, the bullet count lessens drastically, and I can focus a bit better on each individual throat.
After about thirty seconds (seemed long, didn't it?) they're dead. All of them. Maybe the loudest laugh I've ever laughed echoes over the rooftop we've been fighting on. I'm drenched with blood and it's... just beautiful. A radio crackles amongst the dead and once I stop admiring myself I hop over, use a corpse as a bench and sit down, picking the little comm up.
Huh, a pouch on this SWAT dude hangs open... sweet! Nicotine! I pull out the half package and light it with the barrel of a nearby gun and inhale deeply. This is just as good as sex. Rummaging a bit with the radio, it pops on.
"Unit 3, Unit 3, come in. Unit 3, do you read?"
"Euh, yello," I try.
"Unit 3, retreat immediately, I repeat; retreat immediately. Codename Jester is NOT the target, pull your forces back."
"Sshhyeeaaaahh... ah..." I look over the scattered remains.
"Unit 3 acknowledge."
"Sorry bud, retreat ain't gonna happen, everyone is kinda dead now. Say, now I have you on the line, how about a customer review?"
"Who is this?!"
"Ah... codename Jester? Now about that review--"
The line goes dead immediately.
"People are rude."
Defeats Bile with some difficulty
I take a second to wipe the blood off of my goggles but I don't have much time. That weird little monster was getting away, last I checked, so I start zooming in the direction I last saw it.
While the weird little monkey thing was quick, and decently bouncy, he was no Joygirl. The city is my jungle gym, and it's a macaw soon to be caught in my Joyweb. I think.
It's only moments before I see it -- it seems to have stopped. I hear a crunching noise, and some hissing, and the whole thing sounds like some macabre symphony of cannibalism. Which, as I get closer, I see that it is. The creature is gray and scaly, with a thin, bony tail and batli -- you know what, you already read this description like three issues ago, I'm not gonna repeat myself. Too much fuckin' work.
Aaaaaanyway, it's hunched over what appears to be the corpse of a young teenage boy, its horrid fangs and claws ripping at his warm, delicious innards. It's actually quite disgusting, even to somebody like me.
Why the teenage boy? I mean there is an entire rooftop of dead fuckheads a few blocks further. Heh, unless it's got a thing for teenage boys.
That's not that funny and I'm not sure I like the implications. I pull mah gun and fire the shotgun round from under the barrel. The creature gets smacked away from dead boy and doesn't move. I step over and past the boy, he reminds me of one of Amy's old school friends.
"Tough luck, kid," I say quietly as I walk past him. The creature is lying on his side. I kneel down next to it and turn it over, suddenly I realize the trap I stepped into. FML, Bruce Campbell is always right.
I'm faced with the love-child of Gollum and Venom, with two oversized black eyes that are open and staring at me. More importantly, I'm faced with a mouth filled with oversized fangs, that's currently shooting green juice at me.
It's a good thing I'm quick (and that I made the decision that the green spurt wasn't kool-aid). If I hadn't mostly gotten out of the way I could have been disintegrated, maybe even killed (hah). As is, however, my left arm, part of my torso, and part of my left leg (I never knew my exposed kneecaps were so sexy!) are pretty much gone. As a result, I mostly fall down, hobbling on my one good leg and relying on my ultralibrium to keep my skinny ass afloat.
The monstah stands up slowly, and I notice a thick, purplish welt on its chest, probably where the shotgun slug hit. Not bad. He pounces me with his claws flailing. 8/10 for effort, 3/10 for technique. He's sloppy, and he attacks like a savage beast (which I assume he is, considering the whole consumption of teenagers thingy), and I can dodge him -- mostly.
I look down at my leg, waiting to see the flesh restore itself. It is, restoring itself I mean, just... nowhere near as quickly as I'd like. Oh, please, not another weakness! I promise, I'll try not to act like a Mary Sue!
It laughs like a jackal, fed helium, broken glass, and young boys and I decide on a new daring tactic. It's called: 'Let's not get hit.'
I break out one of my knives after I drop a round directly on the welt I've already left. It gets knocked around like a muppet but recovers quickly, and jumps for the attack.
My blade don't care what ur made of, biatch.
I twirl to the side and hold my arm out, catching him just beneath the ribcage. I cut through his hide, but not as deep as I wanted. Not as deeply at all. He jumps away and offers a furious shriek at me, then he unceremoniously vomits on his wound.
"Yeah, that'll help, dumbass."
Shit, it does help. The wound gets cauterized or something, the vomit solidifying and forming a crusty scab of sorts.
"Hey, that's not fair, you fuck!" Not that I'm one to talk.
It answers by spitting more vomit (how much teenager did he eat?). I jump away and fire off two more rounds to its left. The animal jumps away but in a dead corner of the higher parts of the building. I'll affectionately call it 'mah kill corner'.
I slowly start to advance, and it snarls. I can hear its shallow, rapid breathing, which kinda reminds me of a bunny, which of course reminds me of the Vorpal Bunny which is then very fitting.
"Hooold still, little monkey guy... I'm not gonna hurtcha...." I say, both of my crescent-shaped blades in-hand (though the one hand isn't doing much).
"No... you no hurt Bile. Bile... not LET YOU!" The monstah lunges like a cornered rat, attacking me with its comically oversized claws. My leg is mostly fine now, as is my torso, but my arm looks like that of a five year old, which I, of course, am not impressed with. I mostly try to keep him at bay with my greater reach, but one knife is just so not my style so I duck and weave, trying to get close so that I can slash him with my baby arm too. Maybe not the best tactic but it seems like a pretty cool idea to me.
The monstah, "Bile", seems mostly unimpressed. A lot of my attacks hit him but they leave little scratches, nearly paper cuts. His claws and fangs, on the other hand, are very damaging to me. In only a few seconds of quick skirmishing with the gray-skinned creature I'm bleeding like a holy statue's eyes in the presence of a demon, and he seems to be barely inconvenienced.
I'm really tired of stuff being tougher than I am. You know what... I'll show him why I initially started wearing these gogglez (noooope not because of cewlness). But first: Machinegun! I swing it from my back and give Mr. Biteykins a burst. Bullets spray over that armored hide and he shrieks angrily spitting more vomit (fuck you, if you think that will work again). I roundhouse kick the monstah as I swing the LMG back to my back and draw Talon. I seize the opportunity while his head is turned to the side, putting the barrel of my gun against his eye and squeezing one off.
His head slams into the ground. He screams like a whipped dog and jumps away but in a daze, bumping into a smokestack. Yeah, I have a good laugh at his expense. He runs away and I wanna jump after him, but that little weasel fuck throws the damn corpse of the boy at me. Covered in red and innocent intestine a bright light shines on top of me.
"Lemme guess," I say, "'this is the police'."
"This is the police." comes over the megaphone of the police chopper. "Put your hands on the ground, and step away from the body."
Going to leave it at this for now. There are a few more significant battles where she fights Suicide (a stronger, faster clone of her) but they are extremely long and you probably haven't even gotten this far.
- Joygirl gets one day prep in between matches, and is fully nourished at the beginning of each one.
- Full standard gear.
- All combatants in-character.
- Win by death or incap.
Round 1 -- Nightwing
Round 2 -- Punisher (1 day prep)
Round 3 -- Harley Quinn (1 day prep)
Round 4 -- Bullseye
Round 5 -- Count Vertigo
Round 6 -- X-23
Round 7 -- Deadpool
Round 8 -- Kaine
Round 9 -- Beast
Round 10 -- Deathstroke (1 day prep)
For more of my battles, click here!