Tru Grit’s Fight Pits: Entry Test (Pt. 3)- Playing All The Cards

In reality he was already over the whole stockholm thing, but he felt staying silent would make the hero uncomfortable enough for him to get a surprise blow in. (Just got to figure out what I’m going to do…)

He’d thrown most of what he had at Puck, or at least most of what would be useful in a fight, given how he couldn’t exactly lay down Doodle without leaving himself open and he very much doubted creating a hole in the wall would do much to help him.

A quick glance to the audience told him he was letting the silence drag on just a touch too long, and so with a flex of his wrist he threw his Ink Whip at the hero hoping to reel him in with an Ink Pull.

“Whoa there!” Puck called, hopping back to avoid the whip as well as a follow up grab. “And here you had me feeling bad for you kid.”

“And I told you I liked dangerous women.” He pointed out. “I’m still all in even if stockholm’s the penalty.”

“Well… gotta respect your determination at the very least.” Puck admitted with an amused look as he once more began shuffling his cards through the air. “Though you really should be careful about relationships if they hurt you, that’s not healthy.”

“Even if I want them to?” He asked, more for a reaction than anything else.

Puck actually paused to stare at him at that one, before pointing a finger at him. “I am uncomfortable having this conversation with anyone under the age of twenty-one, at least.”

“So you’re folding on the banter?” He verified, pointing his own finger back.

The Mask’s glowing eyes narrowed underneath the brim of his hat. “You really want to go down this route, kid?”

He briefly considered it, and decided, (fuck it, reputation be damned I’m all in.)

“I think I do…” He nodded, before looking the hero dead in the eyes. “Daddy.”

Silence once more reigned as Puck stared at him with no small amount of horror, before slowly begging, “For the love of all that is holy never say that again.”

“Not even if Starlight were here?” He wondered as innocently as possible, gambling on whether or not that supposed rumor was true. (And if they are, I might actually do it for her.)

(If the hot woman asks, the hot woman gets.) The devil on his shoulder agreed.

“She would never let me live it down.” Puck whispered, low enough that he didn’t think anyone was meant to hear. (Too bad, I did.)

Not one to let an opportunity go to waste he flowed to the horrified hero, appearing in a blur of black ink before lashing out with his whip. A blow the Card Caster ducked beneath the strike, before hopping over the follow-up sweep that should’ve knocked the hero off of his feet.

Apparently of similar mind as him, the hero took advantage of his non-existent guard to lash out with a series of cards that seemed to cut right through him despite leaving no physical mark on him. And while Joshua was still staggering from that series of slices, Puck spun on his heel before delivering a roundhouse kick to his chest, sending him flying back onto his ass once more.

“Right, so I’m just gonna go ahead and forget the last minute or so happened.” Puck told him, “Because while I’m all for banter, you’re taking this to a weird place, kid.”

He narrowed his eyes at the hero. (Double or nothing.)

“You sure, da-”

“Nope.” Puck interrupted, throwing a burning card at him, and causing all of his survival instincts to panic as he dropped onto his back because, (fire bad! Fire very bad!)

When the card returned to the Card Caster’s hand, Joshua swallowed before, “Da-”

“Nope.”

He dodged two flaming cards this time by rolling out of the way as they both bit into the ground he’d been laying on.

With mild panic in his eyes, he stared at Puck as the Card Caster narrowed his eyes and raised three cards this time, daring him to say something.

(Fuck, why’d he have to dare me?!) “Dad-”

Rather than trying to dodge the trio of flaming death cards sent flying at him, he instead used ink flow to move to the otherside of the pit. Not that this stopped Puck from continuing to sling cards at him in a seemingly never ending string, the hero refusing to let him say anything else as he was forced to run to avoid being torn apart.

He glanced toward Puck during said run, and quickly realized that the cards probably would continue in a never ending string given how the hero kept recalling the cards the moment they were no longer going to hit him. Something that caused a veritable storm of cards to continue to fly around the Card Caster as he renewed each card’s effect before sending it back out.

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(Okay… so I seemed to have pissed him off…)

(Eh, it was bound to happen at some point.)

(Still kind of inconvenient.)

(True.)

Knowing that he couldn’t just keep running in circles around the hero, because the moment the more experienced Mask actually aimed at him rather than simply throwing cards at him, Joshua had no doubt that that swarm of cards would box him in and take him out.

(Fuck, this is a bad hand.) He grimaced to himself. (Pots too big, need to draw something good quick.)

He mentally paused at that thought before he dropped to a knee and kicked back so that he’d slide under Puck’s cards as they flew overhead. (Also need to end this before my mind permanently gets stuck on card puns.)

With that in mind he once more flowed behind the hero before throwing out several Ink Blots in the hope of disrupting whatever focus Puck was using to keep so many cards in play. The first one missed, his aim off due to just flowing, meaning the hero barely had to lean forward to avoid it, before leaning back to dodge a second one while also casting out a counter card that sliced Joshua’s shoulder.

Not willing to let the hero follow that play up, he quickly flowed to the other side of the hero with the hopes of throwing a bit more ink out. Something that proved pointless when a card nicked his side right as he was coming out of the flow. (Fuck!)

He flowed backwards, out of the hero’s immediate range as he clutched his side, the card apparently having managed to go a bit deeper than the rest given his semi-liquid state coming out of Ink Flow. (Going to have to watch out for that…)

“Seems like that wasn’t the best hand to play.” He chuckled, more to distract himself as the stinging in his side faded with his Healing Factor. “Starting to run low on chips here.”

Honestly, physically he could keep going and he knew he was stubborn enough to continue in spite of the fact that nothing seemed to be working, but at the same time his best shots came whenever he’d gotten Puck talking and distracted. (And sympathy is something the heroes always play up in front of a crowd.)

(...)

Puck narrowed his eyes before rolling his shoulders. “Oh, ready to call it a game, kid?”

“Nah, though if I keep drawing bad hands I’ll start to think the magician is playing a false shuffle on me.” He told the Card Caster, who he knew for a fact was false shuffling that deck. (Anyone who doesn’t realize he’s doing that is an idiot.)

Rather than confirming or denying the hero merely gave him a smirk.

While he very much doubted the hero had let down his guard, he knew how to force another opening as he put on an innocent smile. “But you wouldn’t cheat on me like that, would you, da-”

He immediately Ink Flowed before finishing that sentence, knowing full well that a card had just torn through whatever ink he’d left behind. One that promptly exploded as he came out of the black, blasting his previous space to smithereens as he appeared behind the hero who was already turning with a river of cards flowing through the air.

Even stumbling out of the way, the river nicked his chest several times, though luckily none of the cuts were deep enough to keep him from throwing another Ink Blot at the hero’s face. A blow said hero was unable to avoid from so close, letting the ink splash across his face.

“Shit, that burns.” Puck hissed, leaping a couple of paces back as he wiped at his eyes.

Knowing that he wasn’t going to get another opportunity like that, he once more rushed forward with his Ink Knife in hand hoping that he could land a solid blow on the temporarily blinded hero. A blow that kept missing as Puck somehow danced around his strikes (with his fucking eyes closed!?!)

With a building frustration, he stabbed straight at the hero’s chest, putting admittedly more strength into the blow than he probably should’ve. Of course, rather than impaling the hero, Puck grabbed his wrist and slid the blow out of the way before delivering a punch to Joshua’s jaw, a follow-up blow to his ribs, and one final palm thrust to his chest that launched him backwards and crashing into the ground.

“May’ve slapped that card down a bit too hard.” Puck commented, standing over Joshua as he wiped the last of the ink from his eyes.

“May’ve…” He agreed, feeling a sharp pain in his chest that had him wondering if he’d cracked or broken a couple of ribs. “Don’t think that’ll intimidate me into folding though.”

Puck shook his head, before giving him a look. “Kid I respect your moxie, but we’re reaching a point where you’ve got to learn when to hold ‘em and fold ‘em.”

He was silent for a moment, before reluctantly nodding, “You’re right…”

“Don’t worry, you did fairly well and I’m sure the club ‘ll let ya-” He cut the hero off by lashing out with his Ink Whip, hoping to use it to pull the Card Caster to the ground where his toon enhanced strength might be enough let him win a grapple.

If Puck didn’t immediately flash out of the way.

“Fuck, thought that’d work.” He groaned rolling to his feet as his healing factor painfully worked on his chest.

The hero glared at him with a pair of glowing blue eyes.

“What you said to know when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em, that was clearly the moment to hold ‘em and double down.” He defended himself, knowing that attacking Puck in the middle of a ‘encouraging lesson’ was a bit of dick move but (he’s a hero, and those lessons are a dime a dozen, so fuck ‘im.)

The card caster began shuffling his cards, eyes narrowed into slits.

When Puck quit shuffling, Joshua moved to flow away from whatever card the Card Caster was going to throw out, only to stumble as the world stuttered around him rather than fading to black. (What?)

He blinked before trying to flow again, only to get another repeating stutter and a headache for his troubles.

“Shit…” He cursed, realizing what had happened.

He glanced over at Puck who was watching him curiously rather than taking advantage of the obvious opening. Though that wasn’t to say he’d let his guard down, suspicion more than clear in his stance, which (fair given how many tricks I’ve pulled.)

“Heh, I uh, I seem to have run out of cards to draw…” He chuckled nervously. After all, he was not stupid enough to think he’d get within five paces of the hero without his Ink Flow to cut that distance down, let alone actually beat the hero. “Guess this is when I’m supposed to fold ‘em…”