batwomans_gotham | Rage against the Mac

Roy stalked for a good long while, not paying attention in the least bit to where he was going. He muttered to himself, about how much of a bunch of suckers Eddy and Jeff were, going off like that with that Harley woman. And Amazing was gone, disappeared by who knows what and who knows how. And no one seemed to care about finding their way back home, which was the most important thing to be thinking about right now. Was he the only one that even cared about going back home? So in short, Mr. Furious was angry. Very angry, indeed. More angry at how no one was listening to him for their own, good, probably.

He wanted to go off driving somewhere. Oh, how he wished he had his Harley right now, so very much.

Harley-compatible, anyway.

But instead he had to walk, and now as he finally took a moment to slow down, he realized he was in a very bad neighborhood, which only served to make his temper flare again. What was up with this City, was there like no light at all in this place? Even the streetlights seemed feeble and dim.

"Hey dere, Mr. Neo-wannabe, looks like youse forgot ta pay da toll for dis heah street." Said a snigger from a dark alleyway. Several men began to surround Roy.

"There's no toll booth, what are you--oh, very funny guys. That's really original. You come up with that by yourselves? Or is it like, original? Because it's not."

"Sure dere is. I'm da toll collector, and dis broken stop sign is our booth. You stop here at da sign and give us da toll. So how bout it?"

"You must not know who I am, because if you did, you'd be afraid of who I was. I'm Mr. Furious, and people who try to hustle me make me very angry. I'll go Krakatoa on your craniums." He twitched, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, we got a funny guy heah, fellahs. Would rival the Joker." The leader, a man with a dirty eyepatch and a bald head, smiled menacingly. He fiddled with the chain in his hands. "Guess he don't wanna pay our toll. Tsk. Too bad. Boys?"

"Oh yeah!? I'm not afraid of a bunch of silly little thugs who can't get a real job and have to ask for handins on the street!"

"It's handouts."

"Did you just correct me? Please don't tell me this man just corrected me. Now I'm gonna have to--do THIS!" Mr. Furious let out a furious roar as he 'powered up', and jumped into the fray. And yes, was 8 men against one.

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"Alright," a light, clear voice rang out strongly. "That's enough, bastiches. Only the Bat and hers getta frag in this burg."

Even Roy had to pry the trash can off his head for a second, trying to peer through the sludgy waste that had gotten over his eyes and face. Where was his goggles when he needed them? Oh yeah, around his neck right now.

"Was that even like, English?"

The slender girl crossed her arms over the chest of her oversized black band T-shirt and glared at the thugs from the shadow of her thick black hair. "You gonna go 'way nicely? Or am I gonna haveta frag yer sorry @#$%&@s?"

Roy blinked. Oh no. This girl was going to bite off more than she could chew, and probably get hurt. The men were already closing in on her.

"Don't worry kid, I'll take care of these losers," he said, coughing up some nasty old juice from the trash, throwing the can over his head and aiming badly at another thug.

Mornbein smirked as the thugs moved in on her, then whistled her three little notes and reached through the small portal to pull out her steel bar.

"So," she said, smacking it into her hand and grinning broadly. "Looks like they wanna play, Georgie."

Oh no. She was seriously going to try and take these men. He didn't really notice the portal, he was half blinded by sludge. He jumped in front of the girl, his arms out wide in a protective stance.

"Whatever you do, take me instead. Leave the girl alone. Why won't you think of the children!? The childreeeen!"

Mornbein ducked under his arm, George going up to meet the downswing of the big bald guy's chain, which wrapped around the bar. She laughed out loud and tugged on the bar one-handed, then kicked the guy solidly in the gut and freed the bar to crack against another guy's leg, breaking it cleanly.

Meanwhile, Roy saw most of that through stars, because a thug had came around back of him and knocked him in the back of the head with a piece of wood. He fell to the ground, squinting up through the trash sludge that was dripping down his spiked hair.

"Knocking me down only works for one thing...making me furious!"

And the minute Roy was out of the way the guy got a very hard fist in the nose, followed by a powerful bare foot to the gut. Mornbein smacked another guy in the face with her head, then finished the guy that was doubled over puking on Roy with a tap to the head from George.

He noticed somewhat that the girl he was trying to protect and save was actually winning the fight for him, but it didn't matter. All he saw now, was red. Red like...the redness of firey anger. Actually a lot of people would probably be mad if there was a guy puking on you.

"Rrrrrraaaaaahhhhhhrrghhhh!" He stood his ground and held his fists in the air, his form of 'powering' up. Then he headbutted the nearest guy, knocking him over into a pile of cardboard boxes. Of course the thug he had just taken out was already half unconcious from the fight.

Mornbein ignored him, her laughter ringing out into the Gotham night as she moved with swift efficiency among the remaining thugs, finishing the last one with a stiff-fingered jab to the neck.

That done, she stepped back to count and shook her head as she came up short. "Where are ya, bastich? Didn' hear ya runnin'."

Roy ran around like a lunatic for a second, trying to find more men to fight, but there were none, and his back was really starting to hurt from the fight. He heard pops when he tried to stand back up, and he winced painfully.

"Ow. I mean, I'm gonna throttle whoever did that to me. Where are th' rest of ya? Scared of Mr. Furious, are ya?"

Rage against the Mac

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