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[b]Location:[/b] Englewood Apartments free streetside entertainment[/center]

[b]”Round One: Fight!”[/b] Grim’s booming voice echoed from behind the mask, hands raised in an exaggerated, bobbing motion of a cartoonish boxer. Like a bull to a flag, Mutt charged forward - only to be snagged as his own shadow caught the man around the ankles, sending him crashing to the ground. At least, that would’ve been his destination if it wasn’t for Grim punching upwards - he was still quite a few feet in front of him, but the answering fist made of shadows that shot up to clock the criminal in the jaw was explanation enough.

“A hard right swing from the reigning champion! Will his opponent stay down for the count?”

“God, will you shut up?” Mutt groaned his words, having rolled to his back and hand touching his jaw. The wolfish man staggered to his feet, shaking off the blow like a dog shaking water before turning glowing, hateful eyes to his opponent. In return, the hero just laughed heartily.

“Someone has to keep this sad excuse for a fight amusing, might as well be me!” Grim’s head tilted hearing a scuffle behind him, a clatter of metal on pavement. The slightest glint of the knife that Shank dropped caught his eye, but in the moment he was making sure his back was covered Mutt lunged through the air, claws out.

The two hit the ground hard, most of the impact thrumming through Grim. Mutt wasted no time in slamming his knee into Grim’s gut before straddling him, hand rearing back to clock across the glowing mask. As he raised his hand again, the shadowmancer abruptly fell into the ground and disappeared into the man’s shadow. The sudden loss of mass beneath him caused Mutt to have to balance himself, even as he kicked backwards in preparation of someone appearing behind him.

He was correct, of course, since a hand did appear at his feet. However rather than going to strike, Grim’s gloved hand grabbed onto Mutt’s ankle and yanked him half into his own shadow, causing him to go further off balance, before the hero’s foot came out at Mutt’s midsection and kicked him away.

“Oof, I thought we were tagging in our teammates! Bad sportsmanship, there.” Grim’s voice was more haggard as he peeled away from the nearest alley’s wall, the sound of him sucking in air rattling through the mask like the roar of an engine. “I think we’ll need a penalty!” From the wisping shadows at Grim’s feet they sprung up, wrapping around his forearms and hands to double the appendages in size. He raised his shadow cloaked hands up, but Mutt only snarled and began to approach more cautiously. The two circled each other for a moment - and then, Mutt flinched as Shank’s high pitched cries pierced the air.

A dash forward, a dodge of swiping claws, and entering into the other man’s personal bubble led up to a solid, weighty clock right to his already bruising jaw.

“K.O! Our champion keeps his belt!” Mutt hit the ground hard, unconscious, and above them one of Grim’s usual drones shone a spotlight down on him - causing the shadows along his arms to dissipate in smoky tendrils. “Call me the dog catcher, this boy has been leashed!”

The spotlight cut out, and Grim turned his glowing eyes around. Arctic Fox was covering his back, Wraith was - well, Wraith was like everytime Grim has ever seen him. Bloodied and stabby. The man was effective though, having downed the biggest one and engaging with another, which left-

“Ah, fuck.”

Grim and Mindraker stared at each other across the street.

“... Could I interest you in some autographed memorabilia?”