Want to Make A Deal? (Honest and JaK)

Guest

The bullets hit Balthazar square on his shoulders. The man was pushed to the floor. A few seconds later, however, he stood up again. Was he wearing a bullet-proof vest underneath his robes? The scholar looked at Suda and deepened his frown. "You should know, Suda. I do not do anything unless I am guaranteed to succeed."

The scholar put his fists together and closed his eyes for a second. He then opened his eyes again and approached Suda. He raised his fists for combat and then dashed at Suda, aiming a quick kick for the man's chest.

____________________

Butter Fingers, on the other hand, admired Fusion's now bullet-proof body. "I see. You are bulletproof, it seems. Have you also seen the mirror?" Fingers put his guns away and instead pulled out his sword. Running at Fusion, he aimed an overhead slash for the man's shoulder. It certainly seemed like a strange strategy to use when facing a bulletproof opponent.

Guest

Suda had chose to stay, or rather Liev had chose to stay. This was something that always annoyed Sage to no end. Whenever he told people to run, they always did the opposite. Jeez, what's the point of a bodyguard if you wont let him guard you, but in either case it would seem they would have their work cut out for them. For no sooner had Marlo laid some cover fire over JaK's shoulder at Balthazar and he dropped to the floor. Butterfingers came running towards Fusion with a sword slash? A rather odd tactic, considering bullets couldn't pierce him at the moment. JaK wondered if he should be wary of this for a second because he didn't think that Butterfinger's was that dumb, but then again, he didn't have very much room to evade with Honest back to back with him. So JaK raised his armored forearm up to block the blow and afterwards was going to attempt a straight forward tiger palm thrust to the man's chest cavity. Meanwhile, it would appear Balthazar had revived right after the shots and came around to attack Suda from JaK's backside. Very resourceful indeed; like JaK he too had brought a bullet proof vest, their work was indeed cut out for them.

Guest

JaK's arm would block the sword, which proved to be just a normal blade. The seemingly suicide attack was apparently a bluff. Or was it?

JaK's other hand thrust right into Butter Fingers' chest, and went right through it. Butter Fingers stood, his face completely calm even though he had an arm in his chest. JaK would notice a strange, oily consistency to Butter Fingers' blood, which appeared to be light yellow in color.

Fingers would laugh insanely as he looked down at his predicament. "It seems you've hurt me, Fusion. Let me return the favor."

The mercenary would grab at JaK's face with both arms, dropping his sword in the process. He would close his fingers around JaK's mouth and nose in an attempt to stop JaK from breathing.

Guest

That’s something I’ve never seen before, Liev thought the moment he saw oil dripping from Butterfinger’s stomach.Next thing, he’ll be drowning JaK in literal butter for God’s sake.

But the first matter at hand. Balthazar. It was an obvious thing that he was coming at Suda, of course, but it was more complicated and helpful to Honest than most could deduce.

The lines in his face—the laugh lines, which most people know as the wrinkles on one’s forehead and the ridges around the mouth when people opened it wide—were perfectly distorted unlike the solid poker expression that the scholar had been able to achieve while completely still and under no stress or physical strain. Finally a good canvas to work off of.

Honest shifted Marlo’s weight to his lower body, mostly depending on the titanium boots he had disguised as typical fancy dress shoes. Marlo’s taste for fine clothing was not only impeccable but extremely resourceful in its uncanny ability to tailor shape, figure, weight and now weapons. He swung around, planting his feet firmly on the ground as he stashed the guns in his deep trouser pockets, placed his arms in an “X” across his chest like a makeshift shield, made more of a literal statement by the titanium braces on his arms, bracing for impact while his mind replayed the moment that happened just seconds ago when Balthazar killed Yaga with “simplistic measures.”

Pressure points used to their fullest. Honest could not help but admire this skill. Using just two fingers to paralyse a person was one thing or a fist to knock the air out of them, but palm heart attacks were trickier. I should learn that some time.

While the titanium gloves remained lock in a cross, an automatic gear shifted in the hinges for elbow mobility, rubbing together the strong metal alloy with pure iron and bits of nickel, creating a perfect base ground for a ferromagnetic reaction.

Thanks, Backlash, Liev thought with a smug apprehension in mind. The sword that Butterfingers had carelessly and mindlessly dropped whizzed past the two brawlers, himself and JaK, and into the small crevice created between the “X” of arms, became rigid in encased magnetic fields, and protruded directly outward like some sort of medieval, possessed jousting spear. He expected blood if this technique succeeded, as did the knowledge of instant death.

A necessary sacrifice—bars wouldn’t hold Balthazar at all.

Meanwhile, the other half of Honest’s brain focused on JaK’s current predicament. He was positive JaK would be able to free himself from the attack, but even positive assumptions were failures in the midst of death. A little miracle came into Suda’s view when he remembered that Senda’s mechanical body was still on the floor.

Perfect. Our own metal crash dummy.

Using a portion of the magnetic power that Marlo Suda had just obtained to move the robotic figure would be difficult and a risk with Balthazar coming fore a full-blow attack, but it really needed to happen.

Honest concentrated very, very hard on it, even directing his eyes by using the surety of the sword as a reasoning technique (or excuse) to take this risk, and for seconds Liev’s mind had isolated itself on making the body move and serve its purpose.

Slowly, unsteadily, Senda’s robot doppelganger quivered under the forces and protested to weak currents, but finally gained enough speed to zoom across the room and directly at Butterfinger’s feet, hopefully to knock him down hard and good.

I can’t believe I’m giving so much credit to Backlash. She’s a murderer... and now with the same technology that she used to kill Evan with, I’m probably going to kill someone, too. God help us all...

Guest

As JaK placed his palm thrust squarely in Butterfinger's chest his eyes widened as his hand went right into it...Figures. Butterfingers couldn't have just meant he was a slippery guy, it had to be litteral for his powers.

"What the H---ARUGh!!"

No sooner had the sword dropped, Butterfingers placed his hands on Fusion's face and began to smother him. Sage couldn't breathe and trying to knock this guy off of him was going to be annoyingly difficult when his blows went through him. Sage wondered what would happn when he sliced this freaks fricken head off! Anger. Not a good emotion to have when you're being suffocated, stow that JaK, can't pass out. Not while Honest has both these guys on his ass. No, he needed to man up, and luckily Honest had helped him. JaK threw another overhand fist at Butterfinger's head since he couldn't remove the other from his chest and even seemed to be having trouble pushing the slippery character away. Hopefully, if the punch connected it would place a hole in Butterfinger's head where his eyes were and the robotic body would knock off the legs.

*Mumbles* "GET OFF ME!"

Guest

Balthazar's kick was blocked by Suda, and moments later a sword appeared to defend the man. Suda had telekinesis? Or at least ferrokinesis? Balthazar had not known that. Apparently, he had underestimated the man.

Balthazar was careful to avoid the sword for a few seconds. He was still hurting from those bullets that had hit him in the shoulders. Fortunately, he had been focusing his chi in his chest at the time, shielding him from any serious damage. However, he couldn't fight with a shield covering his entire body. He would need to take a risk in this fight. Still, he couldn't stop now.

Focusing his chi into his legs, Balthazar gave them the density of steel. The sword wouldn't be able to cut them now. His torso, head, and arms, however, were unprotected. He didn't know Suda's pulse, so he wouldn't be able to stop his heart. However, a steel-leg kick would still be able to break a few ribs.

Balthazar sent a sliding side kick right for Suda's side ribs. Hopefully, he would get past the man's guard and sword.

_______________________

Butter Fingers laughed maniacally as he smothered the life out of Fusion. This was what he did for a living: kill people.

Fusion punched a hole in Fingers' head. A slight inconvenience. Fingers didn't mind, though. He didn't need to see to suffocate someone. He kept his hands firmly planted on Fusion's face.

Senda's robotic body slid into Fingers' feet, crushing them. Without his feet, Butter Fingers collapsed on the ground. He tried to hold on to Fusion's face, but found it hard to get a grip somehow...oh yeah, he was made of butter.

Fingers would immediately start reforming his injured body parts. The holes in his chest and head started closing up as his legs fixed themselves.

Guest

Fusion dropped to his knees as he spit out what appeared to be butter from his mouth and then shot some out of his nostrils like giant boogers...Gross.

"*Cough, Cough* That's not going to happen again."

Sage then thought to himself as to how to defeat an opponent like this. Come on, weaknesses, gotta think. What affect's butter?

"Heat."

With that thought in mind, JaK took a look at this surroundings. This room had pipes and air conditioning. Perfect. Although, JaK didn't know the entire schematics, he knew the basic layout of a structural design from helping redesign the tower and volunteer work he was forced to do for the city to help the Titans image after the battle with Joshua. They had helped rebuild a few buildings and JaK knew for a fact that if the air duct was right there then there was a pipe-leading to it from right...

"Here!"

As Butterfingers's reformed himself, JaK crawled away from him towards the wall of the room for a sec while spitting out more oily buttery substance and dug his hand into it with his enhanced strength, yanking out a pipe moments later that was shooting steam from it. The pipe was connected to the gas heater for the air conditioning and as the hot steam came shooting out of it JaK pointed the pipe like a fire hose right at Butterfingers.

"Hopefully, after you melt I can get your bad taste out of my mouth."

Guest

Butter Fingers had finished healing and saw Fusion running towards the wall. The bullet proof mercenary punched into the wall and pulled out a pipe that shot out hot air.

Fingers was fortunately far enough away that the heat had dissipated substantially before it reached him. Still, he noticed his body melting slowly. He wouldn't be able to sustain himself in this heat. Fingers ran away from Fusion as quickly as he could. At the same time, he spread out some of his excess butter on the ground, creating a nearly frictionless pool between himself and Fusion. The pool spread out until there was no clear path around it. This move had made Fingers physically weaker, but that was okay. He had momentarily escaped the heat from the pipe. If Fusion intended to follow him, the metallic man would fall on his face and become an easy target.

"Ollie Ollie Oxenfree!"

Guest

The delicate rope in the far back-corner of the stage in Honest’s head just snapped. With Butterfinger’s sickening laugh and slippery gambits paired with the unintelligence of Balthazar’s predictable movements that activated when he became physical, plus the steam and heat, the pressure on his head and conscience to redeem the Titans’ good name, stop the cruel decimation of this murderous mass by the lowest of plebeians to the poorest of souls had been eating away each fibre strand of patience and caution’s rigging like an infestation of plagued rats.

And as the sets came tumbling down and the crimson curtains fell, Honest’s mind was set free of being Marlo Suda. It was too late to turn back and if they were exposed as undercover agents, it would not matter either way if Balthazar lost or won. Acting under the sluggish persona of a detestable dictator of dire disaster and decimation was such a damning role that Liev’s façades of Julius Caesar, Macbeth, Hamlet, Cain, Iago, even Doctor Faustus were beginning to appear as very understaged and minor roles. It held Honest back from what he was capable of as a master of the arts, fencing, human anatomy, sculpting––all hobbies often considered as “feminine” or “useless in the real world”––that were also always understaged and minor roles compared to this German shapeshifter’s powers.

“That’s quite enough, General Balthazar,” Honest spat through Suda’s thin lips and yellowing teeth, combining the subconscious spite toward General Whitberg of the United States Federal Government with Suda’s right-hand man’s name. “You didn’t listen when I told you to use your imagination. Let me give you an example!"

The next events all happened within a matter of seconds. He used the steam to fill his lungs with heavy air to add to his own “chi,” or rather breath intake. He used the sights and unpleasant smells of melted butter to work up the sweat on his brow and therefore cool off the excessive humidity from the air. He registered the sounds of laughter, sickening squelching butter, gunfire, paleolithic remarks and ugly intentions to pump rage and motive into Marlo’s own beating heart.

I can’t have this register on an emotional level... Honest recited, and put his best play into motion as Balthazar ran toward him like an angry rhinoceros.

First, distract target...

Honest flung the otherwise rendered useless sword at Balthazar’s face this time.

Notice the disagreement with his lower body in comparison to his upper torso. Wobbly and strange, unnatural like a child learning to hold themselves up after already having mastered walking. Then block his swinging kick, counter with a 270 degree rotation and disarming of balance––discombobulate.

Honest’s clapped Suda’s hands upon the sides of Balthazar’s head.

Being dazed, he’ll most likely attempt a wild haymaker. Employ elbow block, and body shot. Block feral left, weaken right jaw, now fracture.

Suda’s elbow came hard across Balthazar’s jaw.

Break cracked ribs, traumatize solar plexus, dislocate jaw entirely.

Honest drove Suda’s fist across Balthazar’s hips, the other directly at his abdomen, then underneath the bottom of the chin, forcing it upward in a grotesque display of faulty skeletal mechanics.

Heel kick to the diaphragm...

Honest finished the fast-paced, brutish, powerful series of moves were better known as the damn good fight the a certain Mr. Sherlock Holmes had performed in the self-titled Hollywood version that he had viewed not to long ago and learned to mimic perfectly with a heel kick to Balthazar’s chest with the desired result of a good blow across the room and, in the actor Robert Downey, Jr.’s words as he primed his own performance as the Great Detective:

In summary: ears ringing, jaw fractured, three ribs cracked, four broken, diaphragm haemorrhaging. Physical recovery: six weeks. Full psychological recovery: six months.

And in Honest’s: 
Capacity to underestimate me again: neutralised.

Guest

Balthazar tried to dodge his head away from the sword. The blade cut his cheek, but did no serious damage. The kick was all that mattered.

Balthazar's eyes opened wide in surprise as his kick was blocked. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't lose! As Suda essentially took him apart with carefully calculated punches and kicks, Balthazar finally figured it out.

This man wasn't Marlo Suda.

Balthazar would have smiled if he still had control over his jaw. He was in terrible pain, but at least it wasn't Suda who had defeated him. The fighting style, or rather the thought behind them, was not that of Suda. It was a strange combination of several different personalities. This man was a spy, a master of disguise just like Abaz.

If Marlo Suda wasn't here, then where was he? Was this man just a look-alike meant to protect the real Suda who was sitting comfortably miles away?

He should have been out of the fight, but even now Balthazar's arms shook as he pushed himself back up to a kneeling position. He was probably going to die soon, but he needed to let someone know that this wasn't the real Suda. "Fi...Fingers." Balthazar coughed. "Not real. Not... real... Suda."

Guest

OCC: A dramatic monologue. That's Liev, for ya! Very Happy

“‘Not real,'" Suda snorted, "Balthazar, I have never before known a person who has the most tailored ability to give us the firm grasp of the obvious. An imagination isn’t even needed; just see what’s right in front of you and you will be able to double given observations and see the fake in everything that’s real. I’m Honest, in more ways than you can possibly survive.”

He predicted this, the discovery, but Honest didn’t expect it to come so belated. In fact, it turned out that underestimation was not the variable in these past events; it was overestimation that was the winning card in this game.

It is said that books, teachings, actions, and ideas can die. But words... words lived on forever. That was the defining factor in what Honest did next but had not wished to occur. A life taken directly by his own hands... a good, intelligent, and absolutely useless, futile, and fruitless life.

Don’t wait up on him, God. Condemn me as you wish, but if I am going to kill someone, it might as well be him. Granted, he’s not my favorite choice–I would have taken much more resolution in damning Kaiser, but he’s meant for someone else. Someone more apt and truly dragged down by the Monster.

A silent, crude prayer. Something Liev found a ridiculous practice, but if there was indeed a God, a precaution just in case was a good idea.

Now onto a better one.

Hopefully the cacophony drowned Balthazar’s words already, but any more would be too risky. Next point of action: Sherlock Holmes again.

I can’t believe how beneficial that movie is, Honest marveled. And... action!

Head cocked to the left, partial deafness in ears from discombobulation and of from broken jaw: first point of attack.

Honest gave a fast, hard kick straight upward from the bottom of his jaw again much like his previous punch, only with the most atrocious ferocity of a lion and anticipated the cracking separation of skull and spine. It was a fullproof move, but Liev wanted to finalise his keen eye for detail and following through with what he started. On to the next line:

Two: throat; paralyze vocal chords.

He jabbed Suda’s thin fingers, paired with again the metal gloves and drive of a forced ferro-magnetic field into the recess of the scholar’s adam’s apple, crushing it in an instant and causing it to collapse on the vocal chords and box.

Three: has to be further imbalanced from the foreign use of chi. Knock him from his knees, clean.

Suda’s foot ran into the side of his second in command’s left patella, the weakest of the two knee bones, the back around to the right.

“You don’t even have the privilege of kneeling at justice’s feet... No, at revenge’s feet. Squirm beneath my jurisdiction and feel the weight of the flesh you butchered and left to rot in the dirt––the women and children who were mercilessly slaughtered as their fathers were sent to their graves in cold blood. What you did was a pathetic attempt at control and the construction of iron fists, but you and your little paws forgot that iron is one of the most easily controlled metal, cold blood makes only yours boil until the rushes of blood to your head knock you full out, and the blasphemed sons and daughters that could have carried on your damned name have been exterminated as I stand before you right now, as your maker, as your decider of a slow death or a gratuitous death that’s quick and virtually painless. I won’t grant you that kind of luxury just like you deprived the innocents of. I hope that your soul is driven to the seven circle of hell with pit stops at all the preceding six. May you meet every types of Christ and experience what it is to not be spared at every moment you possibly could have. I will watch your burn, I will watch your flesh fester and your eyes boil clean out of your sockets. This is not a mere matter of gore. This is retribution. This is the story that your conscience has been groveling to here. Welcome to My type of justice. Welcome to My own, twisted views of not sins returned ten-fold, but twenty-fold in an endless, never ending, repeatable cycle. There’s a difference between a thug that I pull off the streets and you, your comrades in crime, and especially Marlo Suda. You are completely correct, Balthazar, I am not Marlo Suda. I am Honest, the only liar you’ll ever meet whose career is to break that Commandment. I am an actor, I am a writer, and I am a living paradox and reminder that everybody lies and everything can be uncovered, unearthed, and punished. And with this predestined farewell from the vox populi and me, I must say goodbye. You’re a lucky man, Balthazar of the Red Dagger. Not many souls are able to receive such rich and beautiful words, such ruminated consequences.”

Honest straightened Suda’s back, making his one crooked, vulture posture that of a towering raven, peeled eyes staring through its offender’s own pupils and ripping apart every bit of sanity form the brain and soul, spirit and heart. Liev’s mind reeled.

Finally, drag in left leg, fist to patella. Summary prognosis: unconscious in ninety-seconds, martial efficacy quarter of an hour at best. Full faculty recovery: impossible. Justice served in full: only time can tell.

The above actions were carried out without anything beyond the original catalyst:

Not for the U.S. Government, not for all those lives, not to clear the Titans’ names, and not even for Model Eleven. I did this to prove myself. I did this to figure out my true intuition’s intentions. I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

“Fusion! Get your ass in gear and finish the stupid loon off! We have work to do and loose ends to tie!” Marlo Suda barked over his shoulder. That’s probably the only chance that I’d be able to order JaK around and have him do what I want. Might as well take advantage of it. I’m an impatient man.

Guest

So it turned out JaK was right about the heat thing, meanwhile Honest had gone crazy on Balthazar, JaK wondered if Liev should be using such techniques on this opponent and if Marlo Suda would even know them. However, none of that mattered at the moment. Right now he had to take down Butterfingers, which was proving annoying. Immediately after Butterfingers avoided the steam Fusion enlargened his leg muscles and the soles of his feet to triple their normal size to give him a boost in leaping ability as he lunged into the air heading for Butterfingers, but what he hadn't counted on was his enemy having oiled up the floor as he followed after him. Whether he hit Butterfinger's or not after landing, JaK's feet rather than leaving a 5' inch deep crater in the floor like usual caused him to slip and fall onto his back. Upon doing so his legs and feet deflated and he rubbed the back of his head temporarily dazed after slamming on the ground hard.

"Ouff, freakin slippery bastard."

The voice of Suda then blared into his blurry mind as he realized that he had litterally fallen into a trap and was vulnerable. Marlo was ordering him to finish off his opponent already, but JaK was rather too focused on not getting killed at the moment to be worried about being mad at Liev for ordering him around. Instead he thought of where Butterfinger's was and immediately moved to get up in case he needed to avoid an incoming blow. Sage did this by using the slippery surface to his advantage. Like a dancer he jived his body to the right and spun around on his shoulders until he had a full windmill going and then moved onto the tip of his head, at which point he went in a quick body flare with his hands and ended up back on his feet. These movements taking the boy all of but half a second to do since Fusion was an expert free form runner and thus breakdancer to a degree.

"Sorry Mr. Suda, it's hard to smash your opponent if he's already mushy. I'll get right on it."

After locating Butterfingers upon the instant of getting back on his feet, JaK manipluted the material on the bottom of his shoes to become flat, slim, and sharp/edgy; in essence creating make shift-ice skates in which he used to slide towards Butterfinger's and upon closing the distance he spun his armored body around like a professional figure skater and went for a spinning kick at Butterfinger's throat. He needed to incapacitate the opponent. Especially now that the secret was out...He couldn't be allowed to just walk away.

Guest

Balthazar couldn't talk, couldn't move, and could hardly even think. But even as he felt his very life slipping away, Balthazar felt a great relief. This man wasn't working for Suda. He was a superhero who had impersonated Suda in order to destroy the Red Dagger. It was funny, really. This man, Honest, had done what Balthazar had been waiting years to do.

But the Red Dagger could always be rebuilt. As long as Marlo Suda lived on, there would be no peace in the world. Most people considered Suda a demon for his crimes, and Balthazar was no exception. The only reason he had joined the Red Dagger all those years ago...was to kill Marlo Suda. Now, just as he was finally given the opportunity, he had attacked an imposter.

Honest told Balthazar about all the punishment he deserved, and Balthazar agreed. He had done terrible things in his life. Although he had never accepted the ideals of the Red Dagger, he had pretended to. He had played his part in order to rise in the ranks and get closer to Suda. Doing that had meant killing people, a lot of people. In the end, had it been worth it?

Not if that demon, Marlo Suda, was still alive.

The fact that Honest was here meant that the real Suda was still in a U.N. prison. There was still a chance that the monster could escape, or worse. A war-mongering nation could use his skills to start a world war. With Marlo Suda advising any country on tactics, the death toll would be in the millions.

In a seemingly impossible action, Balthazar raised an open hand weakly towards Honest. He spoke, although his words were difficult to make out. "Honest. Kill Suda." Balthazar didn't care that he was about to die. If Honest could kill the real Marlo Suda, then his own life would have worth.

_________________________

Butter Fingers was hit by Fusion's leaping attack, but was easily able to repair the damage done. He then ran off again. To his surprise, Fusion had been able to stand up without any friction to aid him. Strange, now Fusion was ice-skating on the butter towards Fingers. Fingers moved the butter in front of Fusion in order to make a butter-free patch. The sudden introduction of friction should cause Fusion to fall on his face again.

But whether Fusion fell or not, the mercenary was able to behead Fingers with one arm. In a few seconds, Fingers had simply grown a new head. He was about to strike back at Fusion when he saw that Balthazar was down. The robed scholar shouted out that Suda wasn't really Suda.

Well then who was he? Oh well, it didn't matter to him now. With his employer receiving a firm beating, it seemed like Fingers would not be getting paid for this job. He had no more reason to fight.

"Well, no money, no fighting. I'll be seeing you later, Fusion." Fingers ran over to a small drain in the floor and smiled. His body sunk down through the holes in the drain and fell down into the sewage tubes below. The rest of the butter in the room was seemingly sucked down into the same drain, following it's master. Butter Fingers had left the building.

Guest

As the kick swept across Butterfinger's JaK wondered why the man didn't attempt to avoid. Then he suddenly felt the friction come back to him and instead of slipping on the buttery surface he tripped and fell on his metalic face.

"*URGH* You son of a---"

Sage then looked up immediately afterwards in a push-up like position to see Butterfinger's growing a new head and as Balthazar fell to Honest one last time, Butterfingers made a swift retreat. JaK then quickly kipped back up to his feet afterwards to go after him, but by the time he had done so the man had already literally slipped between the cracks.

"Damn. Well he's definitely who he says he is. No chance of money and any Hitman is outta there."

As JaK spoke while kneeling by the drain he looked back over his shoulder to see Marlo looking at the bloody and beaten Balthazar. His armor dispelling itself slowly from Fusion's bodyframe as he examined the buttery substance that seemed to seep away from him down the drain. This Butterfingers guy was interesting. He had complete control of his cellular make-up, a bit more dangerous than JaK thought for a guy made up of a condiment.

Guest

“Honest. Kill Suda.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Balthazar, for that is what I plan to do and have planned to do from the start. But, heinous traitor, do not think I’m doing this for you. I’m doing this for myself—nothing more, nothing less. Myself, Honest practically hissed in reply. A strange feeling overcame him as Liev visited his thoughts that formed through this entire enterprise, a promise and acknowledgement that as long as Suda was alive—UN or not—the lives lost because of him would not be fully avenged.

Killing someone like Balthazar was a problem that weighed no longer on the Teen Titan’s mind. Now another task had taken its place: kill the real Balthazar, even if goes against any militarily standard. As long as I am someone else when the deed is done, my role as a Titan will be unsoiled. He’s a murderer. Everyone who kills must have the same sin fledged upon their own records. …maybe, Honest realised what he had just said, …maybe even I will get that punishment back at myself.

As Honest nervously looked around him when he heard Butterfingers’ exit line. It was over… it was really, truly over. But what about the rest of this place? Were they supposed to blow it up or actually trust the Government to take care of it themselves? And what about “restoring the Teen Titans’ names?” How did they suppose they’d go about that? Just announce it on the television? “Hey, so the Teen Titans are heroes now and we were wrong about them being bad.”

Bullocks. They weren’t even ‘bad’ in the first place.

He turned back to Balthazar, not sure what to do now. Kill him quickly? Shoot him? Let him have a slow and painful death? Heavy questions for a heavy mind and heart they were, but he couldn’t just be left here without knowing what really comes of him. Honest had learned to not underestimate anything from this plan. Balthazar was no exception.

Without taking the time to plan anything more—he had done enough of that—Liev grabbed hold of Balthazar’s outstretched hand, commanded his gun to come forth by using his own metalkinetic arm, shoved it in the scholars fingers, yanked it so the barrel of his own gun was staring down his soul, and made the trigger go off, the bullet fly, and instantly end Balthazar’s pathetic life.

“Th-there,” Honest managed as Balthazar’s body crumpled to the floor. “We-we’re done here, JaK. It’s over. Let’s go home."

» I can't deal
» JaK's Gone. Deal with it. (Grayline)
» Deal With A Demon
» Memoirs of a Liar
» Waiting for the Deal (gilda and yang)