<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/147508/4593900-1.jpg)</div><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>? ? ?<br/><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong>Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br/><strong>Affiliation:</strong>The Highest Bidder.<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:18 - 20:25<br/><strong>Location:</strong>S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br/><hr/><br/>Unfortunately, Deathstroke didn't get to see just how hard his kick connected with the SuperMask, or even if it connected in any meaningful way at all; though he felt his foot connect with<em>something</em>before it finished its journey and began its descent to the floor, his attention was already drawn elsewhere before his move had even finished. His super senses had caught something else on the very edge of his hearing, something tickling at the fringes of his attention. The blood that had begun pounding in his ears blocked a fair amount of his hearing as his body got accustomed to the new shot of adrenaline and excitement - a sense of thrilling rush that he hadn't felt in a fight for a long, long time - but as his body processed the new energy and heartrate as he got ready for a good, exciting fight, it got better at managing the volume in his ears...and he heard it. The ever so slight scuff of a foot shifting its weight behind him, the sounds of a deep, steadying breath as somebody prepared to do something dangerous or energy-intensive or just something that they were worried about...either way, whoever it was that was behind him was almost as stealthy, if not more so, than Fem-Bats back in the corridor was. Where was she, anyway? Had he left her behind that far, or had time not progressed that much as of yet? Possibly both? No matter. This new combatant was just as stealthy as she was, and was planning something big. Probably another human, judging by the tactics...Metahumans tended to stomp in and assume they were the biggest and strongest - like the SuperMask he'd just kicked - rather than employing any actual guerilla tactics. Unfortunately for Deathstroke, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to turn in time; the sound of feet leaving the floor came before his foot had even finished its descent, and though he can react and think faster than an ordinary human, if he didn't have his balance quite ready, even he had his limits.<br/><br/>That didn't mean he had to go quietly, however; the assailant was in mid-air, which suggested that he wanted to close distance quickly and as quietly as possible...so Deathstroke set himself, steadying his body and regaining his balance in the split second between the moments when the assailants feet left the floor and his body came crashing into the back of Deathstroke. Any ordinary human would have likely gone toppling over from such an impact; they wouldn't have their balance back, and they wouldn't have heard such a quiet individual sneaking up on them until it was far too late and the attacker was already on top of them. Deathstroke, however, as should be obvious by now...was not an ordinary, helpless human. He was<em>superior</em>and he was about to prove it. This...Mask was about to learn why you didn't attempt to out-grapple The Terminator himself, especially if you were just human. Oh, don't get him wrong; the tactic was sound. His assailant - male, from size, build and voice - went straight for the throat, making certain to lock himself into position in an attempt to latch on securely as he crushed the windpipe....if your opponent couldn't breath, he couldn't fight. Simple as that, and true. Even Deathstroke himself could be choked out, given enough force...of course, the one thing that this foolish, brash Mask had forgotten to take into account was Deathstroke's armour. The raised lip in front of Deathstroke's throat delayed the completion of the hold long enough for him to lift up a hand and wedge it between his shoulder and the escrima, using his considerable strength to keep the baton away from him with a heavily gauntleted hand. It was a difficult angle to push from, to be sure, but he was able to bench press over a ton. Stopping the advance of a normal human males arm was childs play compared to that.<br/><br/>And, of course, this Mask also saw fit to offer some kind of wit; the previous Mask had thought to give him a little sarcastic nod, and this one decided to employ juvenile, basic banter into their fight, no doubt because he believed himself to be funny. No matter; Deathstroke himself engaged in such conversation often as a psychological tactic, and as such, he had grown very, very good at it. He chuckled lowly, a cross between a guttural laugh and a growl of amusement as he tilted his head slightly to catch a sidelong look at his assailants masked face...he would need to research him later to find out exactly who he was dealing with, though he had his suspicions; the Female Batman back there, if he was right about her identity, was rumoured to run with a group of other heroes of similar skills and outlooks...if he could get a good look at them, he'd likely be able to match them with their media personalities, at the very least, especially since they were so thoughtful as to design distinctive costumes for themselves. Still. Witty banter. It's how it was done, after all. "That's funny, little boy," He<em>did</em>sound young, admittedly...though, to be fair, most people were young to Deathstroke. Not many people could say that they were as sprightly as a 22 year old at the age of 80, now could they? "But I think you'll find that<em>I</em>play far rougher than you can hope to handle." His free hand suddenly locked around the Masks ankles, keeping them in place with his vice-like, steel grip. The lock was designed to keep the ankles together...with the addition of his steel-warping grip? Those ankles weren't going anywhere, thereby trapping his assailant on his back. That was the problem with such a hold; you opened yourself up to thousands of different counter attacks, with no real way to defend yourself. It was a brave gamble and against anybody else, it might have worked...but Deathstroke? No. The boy went all in, and his opponent had a Royal Flush.<br/><br/>Bending his legs, he braced himself and then pushed himself backwards sharply, using his hardened, more advanced muscular system to accelerate at a rate far beyond most ordinary humans. He couldn't accelerate as quickly going backwards with a load on his back as he could unburdened going forwards, but in the couple of seconds before he reached his target, he was still able to hit the best part of ten miles per hour as he crunched backwards into the wall, sandwiching the new Mask between his heavy plated armour and the solid concrete and steel security wall of S.T.A.R Labs. He didn't waste any time, however; the Mask was stunned, undoubtedly, and that was his chance to take advantage. Moving both of his hands down to the ankles that were locked in front of his waist, he gripped a different leg with each hand and pulled,<em>hard,</em>forcibly separating the ankles from each other. It was difficult, of course - even the worlds strongest man that wasn't Deathstroke would have trouble breaking a hold that had been locked with the ankles, given how hard it was comparably speaking to pull something apart that was already fixed together - but he was able to bend steel and lift cars by himself. He was able to force the legs apart without too much trouble...but he wasn't done; having the Mask on his back was inconvenient at best, and he needed him off. He released the ankles suddenly, and lifted his hands up to grab his attackers wrists firmly. Stepping forwards, he threw his entire upper body forwards and down, bending at the waist and using his momentum and his super strength to throw the Mask forwards , pulling his wrists with his entire upper body and flipping him over his shoulder and crashing down onto the floor. Deathstroke can hear a sharp crunch, though he was fairly sure it wasn't anything belonging to the Hero; it was most likely the tiles beneath him cracking from the impact.<br/><br/>Deathstroke doesn't stop there, though. As he threw his attacker forwards, he also pushed himself forwards, tucking himself into a roll and skidding along the floor a little before he came up in a combat crouch, watching both the Meta, the temporarily downed grappler and the door that he originally came through that he expected Fem-Bats to come through any moment then. He took the opportunity to take a brief glance around, especially from where the grappler leapt from, determined not to be surprised a third time in as many minutes. He didn't immediately see anything, even with his enhanced vision, so perhaps the Man In Tights had come alo- ah. It was difficult, but when he focused his ears on that doorway, he could hear the sounds of presence; breathing, no matter how quiet, always made at least a small sound...and though it was nearly silent, he could just pick up the sound of moving air. True, it could have just been a draught coming in from the loading bay, but when it was accompanied by an ever so slight scuff on the floor, it was likely to be a person. He focused his eye on the spot...but didn't see anything. It roved around a little, scanning the darkness...nothing. Was he going crazy? One of his senses told him that there was somebody there, and the other told him that there wasn't. Or maybe...she was just not visible. The Superbomb hadn't worked as effectively on the Fem-Bat as he had anticipated, so she likely had some kind of nullifying technology...why could somebody here be using a vision obscuring technology too, since they obviously had access to high levels of technology and science. Or they were just hiding.<br/><br/>Either way...he didn't know where they were, but he was certain somebody was over there. And if she was invisible? Her hesitation in leaping to the attack when she had the advantage told him outright that she wasn't as experienced as Fem Bat and Captain Tightpants over there on the floor...a trainee? Well, everybody had to start somewhere, but you didn't bring a rookie to fight The Terminator...if you wanted them to live to become experienced, that was. He angled himself so that he could keep an eye on the people he could see, and the doorway where he was now certain that somebody was lurking in...the hair on the back of his neck was prickling like it did whenever he was being watched, and he had learned to trust his instincts. They'd saved his life on more than one occasion when his senses told him that everything was fine. So if one of his senses and his instincts told him that there was something off about that doorway? There was something off about that doorway. He couldn't run now...not when he had three (possibly four) half decent opponents<em>and</em>when they were standing between him and his contracted theft, hiding beneath the table. He lifted his eyebrow and projected his voice towards the room almost mockingly, taking the chance of there being somebody there. If there wasn't after all, he was going to look absolutely crazy...unless it distracted the other Masks into thinking there was somebody else there, too. But if she was there, well...the benefits of calling them out outweighed the risk of looking crazy. If they thought he could see her, they might reveal themselves...or slink away. Either way, there was nothing to be lost from testing out the hypothesis, at the very least. He still wasn't sure, but it was worth the risk to see if he was right. After all...he didn't want an invisible enemy combatant lurking around his fight. Who knew what kind of anarchy they could create for him? Better to try and tempt her out now than to wait and let her reveal herself on her own terms. "And you?" he asked sarcastically, "Aren't you going to try as well? Or are you just here to watch and learn from your betters?" He snorted, for show. He didn't usually make it personal, but he knew nothing about this team on a personal level...so he had to figure out which buttons to push somehow. And that was going to take some verbal as well as physical probing.<br/><br/>This night was shaping up to be rather interesting after all...