Mock Fight: Ballad vs the SoSV

[Skeletor]

Skeletor barely heard the shouting of his supposed commander, he was too focused on the gunsmith in front of him. The green-skinned sharpshooter was holding his own, despite overwhelming opposition, and none of the three of them still standing would be able to handle him head-on in direct combat. Skeletor had to admire the skill with which his opponent fought, never wasting time on an opponent that he had neutralized, but moving on to the next threat. Smoothly, methodically, like a well-tuned machine of destruction. Against any one of them, Ballad had proven that he would easily and soundly be victorious.  
 
He had even disrupted Skeletor’s plan. The two gunmen were probably dead, Warren was down and bleeding, even Scarecrow was crouched against a car, hands warding away some imagined threat as the pathetic scientist bawled in fear. There was no one else to help him, no team to open fire on the target when the plan was enacted. No point to any of it at all.
 
“You think you’ve won, don’t you?” he shouted at the sharpshooter, as his foe rose slowly. There was blood everywhere, and the gunsmith seemed to be moving sluggishly. They were close to victory, Skeletor was sure of it. “I don’t know if you’re getting enough air through that scarf of yours, Gun-boy, but we’re all about to lose. The hay-bale can’t keep his gear together, but it won’t matter.” He raised his havoc staff, tracing frantic lines in the air. Short swathes of flame sprung into being all around Ballad, and he was forced to sidestep to find a space he could stand. The Sharpshooter squinted, the flames of the building mixing with this new conflagration, as ash and smoke filled the air.  He had lost sight of the Skeletal adversary.
 
There were shouts of surprise or perhaps pain from Warren and Scarecrow, as they two were caught in the firestorm. “We will all burn together in the bonfire of our own desires." The Warlock cackled with insane laughter. "The straw man seeks respect, to have others at his command. The robot seeks power, that none may oppose him.” Skeletor advanced, his eldritch fires bending to create a path for him. “You seek order, that your concept of 'peace' may come to pass.” he continued, he was almost to his foe now, he could almost make him out through the smoking haze. Skeletor forced himself into a charge, Havoc staff ready to deliver a finishing blow. “But for myself, I seek to dominate. I will rule all, as is my right! And neither you nor anyone else will stop me!” the Warlock shouted, as he burst through the flames to smite his opponent.
 
“The only thing you’ll be dominating,” the figure said, as Skeletor stopped his charge abruptly, “Is an Eternian prison cell, Skeletor!” There, where he should have found a burnt and bleeding gunsmith, stood the most powerful man in the universe. Without Skeletor’s focus to maintain them, the flames withered away, leaving the primes singed and smoking.
 
“But…but that’s impossible!” Skeletor stammered, as he beheld the Eternian hero, hands his hips and cocky smile in place as always. How had he found them, here of all places?
 
“That’s what you think, Skullface!” He-man laughed, and raised a .50 pistol directly into Skeletor’s dumb-founded face.
 
The gunshot echoed against the concrete walls of the parking garage, as the flames continued to spread.