[IC] Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Rage.

[Skallagrim]

The punches landed which meant that the Splatterer was indeed human. As the behemoth of a man, and General Freedom was surprised by the density of the smaller man, tottered, Steve was preparing another combo a fluid extension of the first one.

Twisting hips and squaring up to unleash on the man, General Freedom was surprised by the agility of the one-armed freak. Then it hit him, a burst of energy that lifted the blue-clad hero off his feet and carried him through the wall behind him.

Crashing through the department store, tumbling through the lingerie department, General Freedom crashed through the floor to ceiling glass window and on to the street. A bright pink and lace bra dangling from his head, one cup over his right eye. Pulling it off, the icon of millions stood slowly, the ZPE racing and shimmering along his muscular frame.

Through the carnage he spotted the one armed mutant, “Well, well looks like we have a fight sports fans!” General Freedom muttered as he fired a quick uncharged burst of energy at the man, just enough energy to lift him off his feet and back. Of course if it missed it would certainly rip in half the stalled brown delivery truck on the other side of the square.

After the burst of energy, General Freedom hovered and made his way slowly towards the Splatterer, his body awash in the cobalt energies. He was about 18 inches off the ground, moving at a leisurely walking pace. Not quite sure what to expect the icon would be ready for almost everything. Almost, the problem with super villains is that they tend to use unorthodox methods.

[LeeRoy]

"And for the record!" Howling like a bloodhound, Sigmund bellowed these words towards Freedom. "I was a cripple, I wasn't the playground bully! Because I never saw the playground!" As he was shouting, the blast of energy slammed into his face. Exploding around his head and causing him to stumble backwards and fall on his ass. Crushing a nearby advertisement for this universe's version of McDonald's, MacDolan's. It sparked slightly as it was a neon sign being held by the company's mascot. Rolan MacDolan.

Man oh man was Sigmund pissed, every vein in his body from his face to his toes was bulging with a rising blood pressure. If his body were visible, it would look like he was going to mess soil his pants intentionally. Another sphere of energy began to charge inside of his mouth, but this time he kept his mouth shut. Freedom wasn't going to see this coming, and nothing in the would would be able to save him.

No matter how hard Freedom was about to hit him, it wouldn't hit nearly as hard as a fully charged blast from Sigmund at close range. So, despite his impatient and irrational behavior, he decided to wait. To stay quiet as Freedom closed the gap between them, though he was doing it in the most cock-sure way possible. A slow float towards him, like all heroes who think they've won their bout with the villain, so they can go off to save the beautiful woman and roll credits.

Blah blah blah, it's a shame that this isn't a movie. Sigmund thought to himself. Otherwise he might actually be in danger.

[Skallagrim]

The seemingly mindless behemoth railed against General Freedom before the simple blast sat him on his heavy ass, ironically in front of a fast food restaurant. The already ugly man was simply becoming uglier by the minute as veins bulged and popped on the man's face and neck. It was not a pretty sight, not by a long shot. Probably the only thing that could make it worse would be if the man were stuffing his face with the greasy burgers from the now defunct sign of McDolan’s.

General Freedom was torn; he had to deal with this brute all the while worrying about Kali and whatever diabolical plan she had concocted. It was already apparent that he was faster and more mobile than the one-armed freak. The problem simply was he couldn’t leave the beast, for the Splatterer’s actions were bestial in nature, alone in the city. Perhaps he could outwit the horrid looking creature. The rage filled faced, the anger and venom that oozed from the thing evoked pity more than anything else. A broken, one armed creature whose very appearance was a sad joke, where it seemed as if some pissed off god had dragged the man through a world of shit and then let him soak in it for a few thousand years.

Maybe he had to beat the man senseless. No matter what powers the freak had, he was exposed to the deadly hand to hand skill of General Freedom. He had not missed the effect his blow had on the man’s left side, the damaged side. With one arm, regardless of the stretch Armstrong effects that he had, he was still vulnerable. His powerful bursts of energy were a concern but, then General Freedom had faced Fury who had incredible burst of energy, so that was nothing new.

Every muscle of the star spangled hero was taut as he moved continually closer, until in a sudden move he raised his right hand, open palmed towards the seated Splatterer. An intense burst of light and energy raced away from General Freedom’s hand forming a bubble of ZPE rapidly interlacing itself around the seated villain. Once completed the bubble would begin to exert six-tons of kinetic force on the man’s body.

The cobalt energies swarmed around General Freedom’s arm and hand, as well as around his feet. While it was not a devastating attack, it was not supposed to be. Rather it was one designed to buy the hero time to figure out what to do regarding the Splatterer.

[LeeRoy]

Excellent, come closer you cocky bastard. I need you as close to me as possible. Everything about Freedom reminded him of who he used to be, and it was driving him mad. Those eyes of pity filled with a self-righteous resolve, that posturing and self-evident cocky demeanor. Everything that he used to be.

Every second that Freedom grew closer was like a century, his impatience burning hotly through his body. The blast growing more concentrated and deathly powerful, a devastating pool of energy that spelled death for the hero of earth. Sigmund was excited and furious, the combination of emotions led to his face twisting into a confusing smile and furrowed brow.

When Freedom finally closed the gap he began to create a bubble of energy that forced itself around the lying Sigmund. As the rather large bubble began to wrap around Sigmund's body, made from the same energies that had torn away his cloak just a few moments before. Basically, there wasn't any logic to Sigmund's next move, he was just freaking out in a violent rage. Someone had actually managed to hurt him, and it was really starting to anger him. Big freakin' surprise, eh? With the semi-charged blast still cooped inside of his mouth and Freedom's bubble wrapping around him, he lashed out violently with his legs. One leg slamming into the ground and dragging backwards, his core muscles tightening up and pulling him forwards. The other leg, his right leg, extending outwards in a straight forwards kick directly into Freedom's force bubble. Intending to pop it with a single swift kick and free himself from the attack before it could even be properly executed.

In reality, he was more concerned about the blast inside of his own mouth. Maybe he's a little bit insane, but the Splatterer isn't stupid. If he accidentally took his focus off of that blast and let it go off inside of his own mouth? This fight would be over in a bright flash. Sigmund would be gone and so would a good mile of this city. So despite all of his violent rampaging, he was trying to save his own skin by escaping any sort of distraction from his own self-destruction.

[Skallagrim]

General Freedom wove the ZPE energies with a deft hand, wrapping the bubble around the behemoth when he reacted. In the blink of an eye, the man had shifted his considerable bulk, lashing out at the force bubble. It had happened before, immensely strong villains hurling their fists or bulk against the energy screen forming an incredibly dense, interlaced energy field around them. Usually they were incapable of breaking free, and General Freedom forced the bubble to squeeze tighter.

Not this time though, no, the star-spangled hero shifted the focus of his force bubble. Perhaps the entire body was not the target maybe the head. General Freedom already figured that the man would be strong enough to resist the pressures the bubble brought to bear, even if he had only one arm. No, he had to focus on something else. That ugly, rage filled mug was it.

With one arm, it might be hard to get the bubble off his head, probably not though, there was that time when General Freedom faced off against Jotun, the largest man he had ever faced. The giant had been able to insert a hand against his cheek and with an incredible display of strength keep the 6 tons of pressure from choking him out. However, it allowed General Freedom to use a bus and batter the giant’s legs until he was barely able to stand.

As the bubble collided with the anger fueled kick of the Splatterer, he pulled it back a bit then whipped it forward towards the misshapen head of the man before him. It might work, it might not, all he needed was a few moments when he had the upper hand and he would unleash a flurry of blows on the man’s exposed side. Any man, no matter how strong yielded when any pressure is applied to an exposed wound for any length of time. The pain took over, flooding the pain receptors with overwhelming stimuli and rather than suffer it, they would give in.

Staring at the twisted, raged filled face, General Freedom knew that if he yielded, if he did not defeat the man before him, he would die. Worse, the city would suffer as well. That General Freedom could not allow. As the foot collided with the bubble, it sparked and shimmered before recoiling and shrinking to something the size of a beach ball. As it was shrinking it was already whipping out and up towards the man’s head, the blazing energy sphere would make contact unless the Splatterer moved to avoid in the next few seconds.

Already General Freedom was preparing for the next part of the attack, even if the freak managed to avoid it, the hero of millions would act. The massive, statuesque body titled forward a bare fraction of an inch. The cobalt blue energy swirling around his feet glowed with such intensity that the tile beneath him darkened, as he clenched his fists into ham like mallets. A low hiss of escaping breath left General Freedom’s lips, his eyes narrowing a moment as he waited with anticipation. Already the left side of the Splatterers body was in his cross-hairs, the damaged tissue would be his canvas and blood his palette.