Colosseum 1v1 Man’s best Fist vs. the Scourge of Civilization

[Steel Accord]

Togo was hanging out on a cliff outcropping of a mountain just outside of Anchorage. It may not be a particularly big city but to Togo it was a marvel to behold. People working together without even realizing it, with devices someone created and gave to others for a profit. Even the idea of profit, that someone could create or do something that earns them an exchangeable currency.

Concepts so simple to most people. Togo wasn’t most people though, by some measures of many including his own, he wasn’t “people” at all. Standing a little over six feet at the tip of his pointy ears, he was easy to spot. Not even mentioning his black and white fur pattern, canine face, and just generally everything a dog has aside from standing on two legs.

He wasn’t naked, although he wasn’t exactly wearing normal clothing either. A rope tied around his dome right beneath his ears like a headband. Some shorts around his waist. Some ropy bands tied around his knuckles and forearms in a complex pattern. Traditional Muay Thai attire.

It gave Togo his own identity but it wasn’t just decorative. He was highly trained in the art, he needed to be. His martial arts skill was regularly put to the test when he fought criminals across Alaska and other states in the Northwest like Washington. Occasionally he had to deal with something a bit more substantial like the misanthrope lycanthrope Dyrewolf he fought in Northern California.

That fight was brutal and as much as Togo hated to admit it, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time they met.

He shivered as the wind picked up. One benefit of his not-personage was that his fur protected him from the deathly cold that only wearing shorts and no shirt would be to others. Still didn’t mean the cold didn’t bother him, it just wouldn’t kill him.

His ear perked and he looked to the sound. The oil rig off shore was beginning to work. The machinery was loud enough he could hear it from hear. He smiled at the industry. Still, he squinted. He pulled out a pair of binoculars and scanned the rig. He thought he saw something that shouldn’t be there. He couldn’t tell if it was on the shore, in the ocean, or on the rig itself. Anyway it didn’t look good.

He jumped down from the cliff where he stood and landed in his own custom hovercraft. He put goggles over his head as the fan behind him powered to life and he took off gliding over the snow.

 

[Diaval]

A figure dressed in thick , used looking winter clothes and the hood covering all of his face was watching the oil ring from the distance. was this destruction of the wilderness realy neccesary, just to obtain some more black gue to burn and blow into the atmosphere? People these days were very aware of the fact they were destroying the very planet they needed to life , what consequences their actions would have , yet all they cared about was money. who cared millions of animals dies in the process? Or that their children, their grandchildren would live in a poisoned wasteland once they were old- as long as they made enough profit. The madness of the modern society was almost funny, but vulture didnt feel like laughing at all.
Something had to be done, untill it would be too late for everyone.

In the past few weeks he had sabotaged the mashines on the different oil plattforms again and again, just for those fools to fix them every single time. He had written a letter, spread copies of it everywhere in the workers camp and the near by village in an attempt to warn the people, to get them to rethink their ways- with no luck. nothing had changed- and nothing ever would if he continued like this. to achieve what he wanted there was no other way than to resort to drastic means from now on. if a few sacrifices ment the future of all would be saved than this had to be done.

near the oilplattform a small life boat was pitching and tossing in the water. noone was stiring it as all the men on it had collapsed on the floor, a strange rush covering their faces and bosied. They all were workers from the oil company and had been on the plattform earlyer, when suddenly this strange illness struck first some and later all of them. when the condistion of their commerades who got infected first worsened at an alarming rate the crew tried to get back to the land to see a doctor but within less than an hour all of them had been compleately incapacitaed.

Just destroying the plattforms was not an option. oil would spill into the ocean and cause a desaster. Since disablening the mashines didnt work either vulture had decided to just get rid of the workers there instead. A artificial virus had been set free on the ring, hopefully making it impossible for any human to set another foot there for the next 20 years...

 

[Steel Accord]

Togo drove his hovercraft over the surface of the water. He came upon a lifeboat bobbing in the waves. He pulled and checked the occupants. They were still alive but barely. The man tried to weakly shove at Togo, saying he’ll get infected to.

He stopped when he saw who it was, he smiled before falling back into unconsciousness. Togo hooked the lifeboat to his hovercraft and started to tug it to shore. He hit a special communicator on his console.

“Doctor!” He said. “It’s Togo. I got a boat full of very sick people. I don’t think they’re going to last!”

“I can see where you’re headed on the GPS. I’ll be waiting there.” When Togo at last pulled to the dock, robots were waiting for him. Not humanoid androids but scurrying, vaguely insectoid drones. They crawled into the boat and carried the men out, their shells forming a conveyor belt.

“What’s wrong with them Doctor?” Togo asked. One drone’s shell opened up and a hologram projector glowed. The image it showed was that of a bearded old man. Doctor Aurelius. Togo’s friend, ally, superhero in his own right, and a powerful artificial intelligence.

“I can save them. From my scans though I can tell you this did not occur naturally.”

“What do you mean?”

“Putting aside the blood and tissue samples I’m compiling for these men, I’ve seen things like this in my own line of superheroing. This is a virus but it’s not one that occurs in nature. It’s targeted. Such a thing would have to be created.”

Togo looked back to the rig.

“Who would do such a thing?” The horror was clear in his voice. He even whimpered a bit like a dog but he cleared his throat, trying to quell it. He could be sad without doing that.

“I might have a solution, if you’ll permit me.” Togo nodded to the floating holographic head.

“Yes please! There’s a reason I called you. Give me ninja, fight rings, or warlords and I’m your man. This though?” He pointed to the men being attended by Dr. Aurelius’ many tiny healing hands. “This is not my expertise.”

“The virus is targeted only to affect humans. With apologies to your sensitivity on this issue-“

“It wouldn’t have any effect on me.”

“Correct.” A group of nanobots split off from the main swarm and right in front of Togo 3-D printed a spherical device with a chamber inside it.

“Take this to the highest point in the rig. It will disperse an agent that will stabilize anyone still alive there and it will kill the virus, making the rig salvageable and hopefully saving the lives of as many crew as we can.” Togo took the device and placed it on his hovercraft.

“Thank you Doctor.” Togo did a martial arts bow with his fist pressed into the palm of his open paw. Togo climbed back into his hovercraft and gunned it for the oil rig. Once there he attached the cure sphere to his belt and made the climb up.

No bodies on the main deck so that’s good so far. Togo had to get to the top though to save anyone still here.

 

[Diaval]

Hidden by the hood of his jacket vulture frowned. he was watching the scene from the distance with a field glass. He could not exactly tell what was going on from where he was standing, but figured whoever was on the ring right now had done something to get rid of the contamination on it. If he was right, soon new men would come back to continue their work of destrying the environment. Did humans never learn?
He tilted his head a bit- were his eyes playing a trick on him? for a moment he thought the figure in the distance had looked like some kind of bipedal dog. ...some weirdo in a furry costume? vulture shook his head, honestly, he didnt realy care. the only reason he was here was to stop the madness that was the oil industry, not to question peoles life- or fashion choices.

For now he would withdraw, wait for his enemy to make the next move, but he wasnever to far away....

On theoil ring there were a few more men who didnt make in on the life boat with the others. all of them were in a bad shape but still alive. maybe one of them had seen who did this?
On one of the walls there was a strange grafiti, that resembled a birds skull...or rather abeak mask- the calling card of one eerie villain....

 

[Steel Accord]

Togo climbed his way up the platforms, sniffing the air as he went along. He chose to do this to search for clues or survivors, not because he had to. Of course, his nose caught the stinging fume of aerosol and he was taken aback as he saw its source, a frightening mural on the side of the platform’s highest wall facing the town.

No way the workers put that there. Speaking of which. He did a running start and bounded to the top of the scaffolding, his powerful arms launching him to the tower atop the rig. He fashioned the Doctor’s device to the pole and hit the button. The solution inside the sphere mixed and with a hissing sound, it dispersed over the oil rig like a healing cloud vapor.

Togo climbed down and sniffed his way for survivors. The men he found started to slowly recover and gain consciousness. Their symptoms still needed treatment but they were no longer in danger of dying. A few thought they were delusional in seeing him, one weakly pulled out a gun and aimed it at Togo but his foreman summoned the strength to pull the man’s arm away before he fired.

“You wanna kill your savior, Roman? Live up to your name all right.” He choked out. Togo knelt by their side.

“Sir, thank you but don’t talk. Help is on the way.”

“Togo wait!” He grabbed the martial artist’s arm.

“You know me?”

“You saved some friends of mine. Know you’re a good man. A superhero. Well I saw the man what did this.” Togo listened closely.

“Who?”

“Like corpse. He made me want to take a shower just lookin’ at ‘im. People dying all around him and he just walked on by like the damned Grim Reaper. He put that eyesore of a paint job on my rig.” The foreman finished with a heavy cough.

“I’ll get him. Thank you for the description. Just hang on until help arrives.” Togo’s eyes were bothering him, he caught a flash of something. He looked to where it was coming from and far away there was a glint, like someone holding up a mirror . . . or a spy glass.

Togo couldn’t help it as he growled in the direction it came from. It was a hunch but he had to follow it. He jumped clear from the platform to the waters below, pulled himself back on to his hovercraft (shaking off the wet in a canine manner) and powered it back up to head to the hill where he saw that shine coming from.