User blog comment:Goldencahill/OC Contest of Champions - Round 1/@comment-28185666-20160929054459

Day 64 – Agent Gladius

Round 1 : Hellfire GO

The helicopter blades swathed the air as Agent Gladius’ blue trench coat fluttered accordingly. He dipped his Tim Tam into his tea and scoffed it down slowly, waiting for his next assignment.

Normally, S.H.I.E.L.D. would be dealing with some villainous outbreak due to ISO-8, Asgardian hissy fits or Cosmic Powers at play. With Odin debunked and Adam Warlock brought back, for now, the threats had dried up. Incursions were gone, but ever since the final incursion… things were different.

Whoever recreated reality was definitely an odd one.

He supposed he should call their new problems ISO-9. Every time reality restarted, the element changed. ISO-8 was viable, but ISO-9 was far stronger in terms of geometry.

He finished his Tim Tam promptly as the call came in. He opened his Nokia phone – a reflection of his own emphasis on rugged durability. He had expected it to be from S.H.I.E.L.D., but alas, it was the Hellfire Club.

He opened his Hellfire GO app, and perused the multiple alerts of riff-raff in his quadrant. Between the multiple safehouses where he could resupply on arms and ammunition, he was the closest to … ThorWolvieGambit it seemed.

“If I’m fast enough… I can catch him.” The Agent gruffly announced, forwarding a location to his pilot as the helicopter banked.



The helicopter dropped him on the rooftop as he loaded his Depletor with a fresh magazine, keeping it lowered but readied. His arrival was no secret, but if he was lucky the helicopter had flown away fast enough to make his presence an uncertainty.

Agent Gladius unsheathed his Nokia with his free hand and used it as a battering ram, sending the rooftop door sprawling. Checking his corners while honing in on the target, the stairwell cement echoed as he rushed to the designated floor. He was inevitably drawn to the deafening sounds of entertainment, namely glamorised gunfire, combos, and awkward Japanese music.

He tapped on the door, expecting no response. A small note about leaving a message was tapped to the door, which was swiftly understood and ignored as the Nokia struck again, breaking the door down.

A relatively surprised (or disappointed) man (who looked like Victor Mancha of all people) was busy operating a game system. The Agent took a quick glance at the screen – a heroine he didn’t recognise was the focal point, and TWG proceeded to play almost like nothing had transpired.

“What is it.” TWG absently asked, smoothly operating the controls.

“I’ve got noise complaints, and … this isn’t the first time either.” Agent Gladius ordained, quickly scrolling down the rap sheet of similar related offences.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">“M8, the real crime would be turning down the volume.” He retorted, still not paying much heed.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">The Agent furrowed his eyebrow. Apparently he also had time to type a remark into chat while continuing with his game in-between fights.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">“Sorry pal, you’re lowering the dress code, value and IQ of the neighbourhood. Turn it down now.” Agent Gladius foreboded, putting his phone back into his tactical vest and putting both hands on the Depletor.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">“Nope. My Wikia, my rules.” He countered, finally looking him face to face before swiftly typing something into his laptop.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">He was expecting something different though, as he rechecked his laptop. “Weird. I just banned you for a whole day.” He muttered, rechecking his code.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">The Agent smugly grinned, revealing a Band-Aid underneath his color. “Banned-Aid.” He explained, before he swiftily unloaded four H.E.A.T rounds into the television and game console. “There we go. Problem solved. Pick a less trashy game next time and keep it quiet alright.” He regaled, putting the gun over his shoulder as he began to walk out.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">If Agent Gladius was watching, he might have known that would have prompted far more of a response than he expected. “No-one sasses Bayonetta.” He calmly snapped, typing something else into his laptop.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">The Depletor swiftly exploded, blowing The Agent across the room and through the wall. He’d landed in a room full of Care Bears, and luckily, these weren’t the animated killer ones. He dusted himself off in time to see TWG in the breach with an electrified sword.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">“Damnit, I just reforged that thing.” Agent Gladius berated, now pulling out an upgunned Flamethrower and igniting the pilot light. TWG saw it coming and ducked back into his room, as a torrent of flames burst through the gap. A few more bursts of flames erupted, each angle getting closer and closer until The Agent was at the breach himself, swathing the room left to right.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">“Oi, no flaming m8.” TWG hollered, as he threw his sword from a safe distance with massive force, which forced Agent Gladius back as he postponed his Heated Discussion. The sword instantly returned to user, as The Agent took the opportunity to pocket his flamethrower and equip his own sword.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">The sword itself ignited in flame, not so subtly upgraded to balance out the attack prior. They calmly danced around each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. They were both clever enough to wait for the first move in order to counter it, to gain the advantage.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">TWG struck first, as Agent Gladius readied himself to parry –

<p class="MsoNormal">- but it was a feint, as he pre-countered, the blade cutting through his Kevlar and sending a decent shock through the plating. Tempted to recoil from the blow, The Agent rolled his flameberge around it, delivering a mutual strike through TWG’s lack of armor.

<p class="MsoNormal">Both combatants temporarily backed off. Agent Gladius let the upgraded Gore Blade channel a modest heal, recovering a decent amount of the recent scuffle. TWG was probably waiting on cooldowns, or maybe doing another laptop based attack – but he’d barely get it as the fires still in the room reignited the recent wound, causing a backdraft that knocked him back.

<p class="MsoNormal">The Agent capitalized, sticking his sword in the floor and pulling out his customized Oni Breaker and winding up his battering blow. He loosed it, hurtling TWG into the nearby wall with a cratering thud.

<p class="MsoNormal">“The Hellfire Club sends their regards.” He farewelled, giving a brief salute as he slumped his Hellfire Club over his shoulder. He pulled his sword out of the floor, completely nonchalant about the damage incurred and closed the door behind him as the room collapsed in cinders.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Agent Gladius called back the chopper, which picked him up at the same point. He’d called the Fire Department and an Ambulance, but no doubt someone else had before him. Clambering into the open helicopter, he designated a safehouse to replace his Depletor at, and rechecked the list of riff raff in his vicinity.

<p class="MsoNormal">“….Gotta catch them all.” He pledged, as the helicopter pulled away under a deafening funnel of noise.

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