One of the cool parts of watching fights in a metahuman school was, unless you knew who the two sides were going into it, every swing was going to bring something new to gawk at. This one would prove to be no exception: Football swung first, enough force going into it that Janice would probably be able to hear the whistle of it from where she was jostling for a nosebleed seat at the edge of the crowd. Blondie had some hustle in his step by now though, and he reared back to let the slobberknocker whoosh
right over him and tousle his hair a bit with the backwash that came right behind it. He bounced back up, light on his feet and darting right inside of Football's comfortable swinging range so he could get a gut shot in."Alfonso!"
Fuck had that been?
There were a few glances around the crowd at the phantom shout, but no one seemed super concerned about mysterious voices shouting random names at the moment; they were too busy watching Football get Blondie in a bearhug to toss him away- much further than he had any right to manage- and immediately give chase, rearing back for a shot to the jaw this time... but Blondie didn't seem to be moving out of the way. The way that first punch had gone, this one would probably knock his block right the hell off if he didn't move soon.
So why was he smiling?
Janice could probably see him moving his lips, as if he was talking to somebody under his breath, but now he was too far away to make out anything specific, much less if he was talking to the same voice they had heard earlier. He was tensing, as if getting ready to block, but he hadn't done it yet... would blocking even do him any good against whatever Football's powerset was?
Football swung, and Blondie remained still, like he was content to let his life flash before his eyes- but at the last possible second, his arms snapped up, a sudden light in his eyes as there was a brilliant flash of golden light, and where his arms had been bare before, there was now a set of golden vambraces twinkling in the midday sun, as if daring Football to hit them or try to pull out of the attack he had committed to.
And hit them he did.
What happened next was a bit muddled, but the major beats were easy enough to agree on: Football put his weight into that punch, but Blondie didn't budge a single inch; considering what had happened last time, he should have gone at least several
. Instead, it was Football's turn to get blown backwards, flipping through the air to smash against the tree that had indirectly been a part of this mess from the very beginning. Blondie stood up, his shiny new gauntlets beginning to dissolve into a lazy drift of softly glowing gold dust that blew away into the breeze as the man himself took his leave.
Better a quick exit than a lengthy explanation to Mr. Kujo.