Make Me Strong

Kada · Nov 7, 2018

Broen caught the fist to the face, but there was something that Fredrick might not have considered from all of those years as a hero. Punching someone in a metal power suit was a lot different from punching them bare knuckle. So this wasn't the worst pain Broen had felt. Getting shot had sucked worse, but bruising his entire body against the side of a.buolding had sucked even worse.

The metal all stopped rattling and Broen knew his powers had been turned off. But this was precisely what he wanted. The same kind of instinctual training he'd given Zora kicked in for him. His calf went up straight between Fredrick's legs.

That combined with Jude's weight on Gallant's back would give Broen the leverage he needed to grab him by his hair and spam his nose into his knee.

Romi · Nov 7, 2018

Gallant was a professional. He'd fought a hundred, maybe even a thousand different fights. He was good. But he was not a street fighter. He was used to fighting in a suit of armor. He'd been banged up and down and all fucking over, but it wasn't the same as a fists out streetfight.

Jude jumped on his back, which was a monumentally bad idea considering he was down an arm, but he wasn't exactly thinking things through. Mostly he was reacting. He wasn't even sure what he was doing. Stopping Frederick? Stopping Broen?

Who even fucking knew.

Broen's knee caught Frederick in the thigh, but missed it's mark. The hand in his hair was met with far more resistance, with Frederick using the momentum from Jude on his back to simply go foward, tackling Broen as he did.

In the distance, there were sirens, and the cafe was absolutely clearing out as the three brawled.

Kada · Nov 7, 2018

Broen cursed as Fredrick tackled him, the body weight of all three men collapsing the table that they crashed into. Okay. That hurt. He'd admit to that. He groaned and started to swing, but a sound cutting through the shouts and screams made him pause.

Sirens.

Of course the cops were on their way. So he just went limp. He spat blood onto the broken table, knowing that his nose was busted and probably his lip. But the best part he suddenly realized as he saw the scene playing out in his head was...

Gallant didn't have a scratch on him. Broen laughed. He looked Fredrick in the eye and he fucking laughed. He'd won.

Romi · Nov 7, 2018

Jude winced as he went down, trying to keep his hold on Frederick and doing a monumentally awful job. Frederick elbowed him, trying to throw him off, and managed to do so pretty easily.

That was going to bruise.

Jude rolled off, and Frederick had a moment of perfect, utter clarity as Broen began to laugh. He had lost. The cops were coming. He'd jumped him, and there was no way to explain it away. He didn't have his reputation. He didn't have his suit. He didn't have his political sway.

So he did what any animal did when backed into a corner: He went all in.

Frederick didn't stop. Broen was prone on the ground, Frederick was on top of him, and Frederick just started bringing his fists down. He couldn't stop him. He couldn't win. But he could make him hurt.

Kada · Nov 7, 2018

Each punch was like an exclamation point, making Broen's vision go white again each time it started to recover. Eventually it was just black on the left side, but he barely noticed. He fumbled underneath Fredrick, trying for his gun in vain. He was starting to black out.

And right then, in their most beautiful moment together, the sirens filled everything. Broen couldn't even hear the police as they shouted and pointed their guns. He saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing. For all intents and purposes, he was nothing.

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Make Me Strong

Kada

Comradmin

Romi

Secretly a Bird

Kada

Comradmin

Romi

Secretly a Bird

Kada

Comradmin