Bloodsport finally stopped struggling and went limp in The Question's grasp. Grumbling, the man with no face tore off his necktie and quickly bound the mercenary's hands behind his back- a strong man like DuBois would recover before too long and there was no sense in letting him get up and make trouble. Myra had given him the tie a few Christmases ago. He was going to want it back.
With Bloodsport restrained, The Question stood and scanned the situation. It had not improved measurably in the last minute or so. More supervillains were busting out of captivity, and he saw his allies locked in combat. He had to do something, but what could a man do with only his fists and a handful of smoke bombs.
The line between courage and stupidity is a thin one. But sometimes, that line must be crossed for noble reasons.
He spied Red Arrow and the strange woman fleeing from a visibly enraged Shrapnel. They were obviously less evenly matched than say, Wonder Girl and Metallo. Maybe that was the best place for him.
Coattails flapping, The Question sprinted towards the fray with no real plan, lungs burning from exertion. Maybe Tot was right, maybe he should lay off the smokes. Bad for his lungs.
Wait. . .
He fumbled in one of his hidden pockets, came up with twenty or so smoke pellets. The Question made a habit of reading up on supervillains whenever he could. Not that he had many to fight in Hub City, but chance favors the prepared mind, as Pastuer said. Shrapnel had inhuman strength, nigh invulnerability. His entire body was made out of living metal.
But Shrapnel still needed to breathe.
The Question stripped off his long overcoat, stretched it out like a hammock, dropped his arsenal of smoke pellets onto the taut surface. Right behind Shrapnel, The Question leaped into the air, pulling the coat tight over Shrapnel's head- and crushing all the smoke pellets against his face. Shrapnel would have no choice but to breathe in the choking, noxious smoke- at last until he crushed The Question to death with his metal body. But at least he could buy some time for Red Arrow. And who knows, maybe Shrapnel wouldn't crush him to death. Unlikely, but possible.
"I must really like you!" The Question yelled to Red Arrow. "Because I hate Metropolis, I hate supervillains, I hate the thought of getting killed, and I hate doing stupid things like this!" Wrapping his legs around the metal man's torso, he held on for dear life as the blinded, coughing Shrapnel thrashed about.
With Bloodsport restrained, The Question stood and scanned the situation. It had not improved measurably in the last minute or so. More supervillains were busting out of captivity, and he saw his allies locked in combat. He had to do something, but what could a man do with only his fists and a handful of smoke bombs.
The line between courage and stupidity is a thin one. But sometimes, that line must be crossed for noble reasons.
He spied Red Arrow and the strange woman fleeing from a visibly enraged Shrapnel. They were obviously less evenly matched than say, Wonder Girl and Metallo. Maybe that was the best place for him.
Coattails flapping, The Question sprinted towards the fray with no real plan, lungs burning from exertion. Maybe Tot was right, maybe he should lay off the smokes. Bad for his lungs.
Wait. . .
He fumbled in one of his hidden pockets, came up with twenty or so smoke pellets. The Question made a habit of reading up on supervillains whenever he could. Not that he had many to fight in Hub City, but chance favors the prepared mind, as Pastuer said. Shrapnel had inhuman strength, nigh invulnerability. His entire body was made out of living metal.
But Shrapnel still needed to breathe.
The Question stripped off his long overcoat, stretched it out like a hammock, dropped his arsenal of smoke pellets onto the taut surface. Right behind Shrapnel, The Question leaped into the air, pulling the coat tight over Shrapnel's head- and crushing all the smoke pellets against his face. Shrapnel would have no choice but to breathe in the choking, noxious smoke- at last until he crushed The Question to death with his metal body. But at least he could buy some time for Red Arrow. And who knows, maybe Shrapnel wouldn't crush him to death. Unlikely, but possible.
"I must really like you!" The Question yelled to Red Arrow. "Because I hate Metropolis, I hate supervillains, I hate the thought of getting killed, and I hate doing stupid things like this!" Wrapping his legs around the metal man's torso, he held on for dear life as the blinded, coughing Shrapnel thrashed about.