WHO: Tommy, Bullseye
WHERE: Idk, somewhere in the city.
WHEN: Friday, November 21st- beginning of the night? Fffffffff too many things happening to night.
WHAT: Tommy gets beaten by Bullseye.
FORMAT: Para-form
WARNINGS: BUSTED KNEECAPS ♥ More seriously, violence and swearing
(
I've been wanting for Tommy to be that much of a jerk for so long <3 )
That was basically what Tommy was thinking as he looked at his opponent on the ground, barely able to get up again. It had been an overkill even without using any molecules destabilization - and it hadn't been a very interesting fight overall.
When Bullseye fell down again Tommy sighed audibly, wondering if he would have to bring him to the police station. He could probably knock him out and get someone else to do it. Or write something on the board to request some sort of assistance.
Tommy hadn't known what he was up against because he never would have stopped observing Bullseye's every move if he had known. He was going to open his communicator when something pierced through his left kneecap. A piece of gravel.
He screamed in pain and fell on the ground, holding his knee although it didn't change anything except for the fact his blood was getting everywhere on his covered hands. He tried taking a few steps back but he was so used of being able to use his legs all the time that he naturally used his left one and that just made him fall again in addition to get him a little dizzy.
"Fucking bastard," he swore dangerously. If he couldn't get away quickly, he could still kill the shithead and get help after. And to do so, he only needed his hands and a couple of seconds to shake every single one of his molecules out of place.
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Bullseye pushed himself up and off the ground, standing once again. He’d recovered, at least stamina-wise. Not to mention that this kid’s senseless wailing was giving him an adrenaline rush. Due to the beating, he could taste the thick and familiar texture of blood welling up in his mouth. The assassin carelessly spat to the side.
His brow furrowed a bit at the insult. “Now that ain’t very nice,” he nonchalantly snorted, pacing toward the now half-crippled boy. As he began stepping forward, his hand retreated to the signature pistol on his belt. He was somewhat tempted to ask his name before all of this, but to be honest, he didn’t give a damn.
Finally, he was towering over Tommy, only inches away. “I really hate brats like you, always spoilin’ my fun. But you know what? I’m willin’ to forgive for a couple o’ bucks. Actually…” His armed hand snapped forward, fixing an aim at Tommy’s other kneecap and pulling the trigger. “See that? That wasn’t necessary. I just did it for shits and giggles.”
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And that basically meant that if they were overwhelmed by pain, just like any regular people, they got dizzy and tented to faint. Everyone just expected supers to be able to fight with 3 bullets in the chest or something - well that wasn't real life and normal bodies just drained all its energy to heal the wound and left none for consciousness. It was to wonder if Captain America stopped his body from trying to heal itself when hurt in order to stay conscious - which would have been pretty stupid and dangerous.
Tommy was hissing between his lips and his vision was starting to get blurry. He was in so much trouble. He managed to continue his movement just enough to start vaporising Bullseye's hand but couldn't continue the motion beyond that. Still, he probably didn't have any skin left on the hand. Here, have a nasty bruise too.
"That was also for the laugh, you fuck," he said weakly.
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He didn't see that coming.
Within seconds, the skin on his hand had completely eaten away. A few bits and piece of it still clung from the now, completely exposed underbelly. He could see his own tendons and veins at work. At first, it didn't hurt. He was in too much shock. Then, in a sudden wave, the massive pain seared through his body. Bullseye staggered back, letting out a garbled mix of of a roar and a growl.
"You piece of shit!" He screamed, clinging to the wrist of his bloodied hand. If he actually touched the exposed flesh, he was in an even bigger world of hurt. "I'm gonna' fuckin' kill you you brat!" Bullseye let out another heave, and spat another wad of blood to the side. He was constantly cringing now. Oh yeah, he was feelin' it alright.
"You've got no idea how fucked you are, and you know what?" The uninjured hand retreated to his belt. He still had it in him. One more shot. One more shot was all he needed on this little fuck, and then he was golden. At least... somewhat. This was who he was. This is what defined him. Bullseye. Bullseye.
"I've had just about enough of your shenanigans." That hissed, he snapped his wrist forward once more, aiming for the neck, this time letting go of a rather painful looking tranquilizer dart.
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Bullseye stopped swearing at him and got something else to shoot at Tommy. If he could catch a knife, he could catch whatever was coming for him, too. He also could have dodged because all of his body had superspeed and moving his upper-body didn't require his legs to work. It did, however, require for him to see well enough to pinpoint the projectile's location and he would also have needed to concentrate on something else than the pain in his knees. And trying not to faint.
For a moment, he thought that whatever was coming at him would perforate his cervical artery and that that you be it. For a moment - and then he felt the dart in his neck. It would have hurt a lot more if he hadn't been numb from his other injuries - at that point, he barely felt it. All his efforts to stay awake were reduced to nothing when the tranquilizer spread into his bloodstream in the next minute and he shifted into unconsciousness.
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