06-20-2017, 07:45 PM
"With pleasure."
The vampire growled and cracked his knuckles, his jumpsuit red with a dark blood, although not as much as one might expect from getting a spear shoved through them. The brass of his lucky spades clinked together as he advanced on Odin once more, wary of the curved metal as it rose to head height, the severely wounded Prime barely able to keep one eye open.
They circled each other, Hendy catching view of Enel spitting on the ground and watching his minion with cruel interest, clearly hoping for a show. Heh.
"So....old man. Norse, right? I recognize the runes on your spear. You ain't Thor, I don't see the hammer. I get the feeling Loki and I would be good buddies. Which means...ah. Odin." No change in the old man's expression as Vic Hendy called him out by name. "Fallen pretty far to be dragged by Omni here, huh? About to die to a mortal armed with metal." Hendy caught himself, and added something to keep up the charade of being Enel's worshipper. "And the only true God."
A wet, throaty cough and a quick swipe with the spearhead as Hendy drew a little too close, the Ravnos stepping back and left from the point, choosing the missed attack as his opportunity to sneak a low blow in to the old man's kidney, the sharp crack of a rib splintering ringing out. "Gods bleed here too, Odin. False ones." Another spear jab, followed by a swift cut that brought a dull splitting pain to Hendy's cheek as it was sliced like deli meat.
He growled and spat blood from his lips, winding up and launching a heavy brass fist into Odin's solar plexus, causing the man to double over and gasp for breath. Hendy took off the knuckles, cracking his fingers, and drew short symbols in the air, his eyes burning with the same purple pattern of emptiness he'd tried to intimidate Chakravartin with.
A thick, cloying mist filled the small area of their battle, the wet dirt ground beneath their feet feeling more like asphalt and concrete, a lone streetlight flickering above them, the illusions smelling and looking and feeling so real. Hendy let go of the main one he was crafting, and three chains formed of clinking metal glowing with red sigils formed out of thin air, wrapping themselves around Odin's arms and neck.
"In a city much like this....I used to live. I played the games of my world, made some friends. One of 'em, big bloke named Munin, used to tell me stories of Asgard and the Norse gods. A genuine Viking, drinking in a shitty little club on Pratt Street. Finest brawler to ever lay one across my left side." Hendy was reloading his gun, watching as Odin struggled and choked against the chains tightening around his neck. "I humored him, after all, he was buying. But out of all those stories, you know what one of my thoughts was?" He pointed the barrel up towards the sky, finger on the trigger.
"Loki was the smart one. Made the rest of you look like fools. Even if the "Allfather" was so supremely powerful. Guess what?"
BLAM. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM.
The Ravnos leaned forward, the smoking barrel of the gun in his hand. "Odin gets his powers and knowledge by hangin' from a tree for seven days and dyin'. Also known as..."
He pressed the barrel against the God's forehead, extracting a nasty sizzling sound as he sears the old man's flesh with the red hot metal. "Bein' a little bitch."
The chains broke as Hendy withdrew the gun, Odin letting out a mighty bellow of rage. The last ounces of power in a dying boar. The vampire danced backward, avoiding furious swipes and stabs , his metropolitan illusion dissolving at exactly the wrong moment. A tree stump was revealed to the Norse deity, and his attacks pushed Hendy backwards over the stump, causing him to fall over backwards. He hit the ground with a thud, and the vampire let out a snarl of frustration as the spear went through his shoulder, pinning him to the muddy earth.
The vampire growled and cracked his knuckles, his jumpsuit red with a dark blood, although not as much as one might expect from getting a spear shoved through them. The brass of his lucky spades clinked together as he advanced on Odin once more, wary of the curved metal as it rose to head height, the severely wounded Prime barely able to keep one eye open.
They circled each other, Hendy catching view of Enel spitting on the ground and watching his minion with cruel interest, clearly hoping for a show. Heh.
"So....old man. Norse, right? I recognize the runes on your spear. You ain't Thor, I don't see the hammer. I get the feeling Loki and I would be good buddies. Which means...ah. Odin." No change in the old man's expression as Vic Hendy called him out by name. "Fallen pretty far to be dragged by Omni here, huh? About to die to a mortal armed with metal." Hendy caught himself, and added something to keep up the charade of being Enel's worshipper. "And the only true God."
A wet, throaty cough and a quick swipe with the spearhead as Hendy drew a little too close, the Ravnos stepping back and left from the point, choosing the missed attack as his opportunity to sneak a low blow in to the old man's kidney, the sharp crack of a rib splintering ringing out. "Gods bleed here too, Odin. False ones." Another spear jab, followed by a swift cut that brought a dull splitting pain to Hendy's cheek as it was sliced like deli meat.
He growled and spat blood from his lips, winding up and launching a heavy brass fist into Odin's solar plexus, causing the man to double over and gasp for breath. Hendy took off the knuckles, cracking his fingers, and drew short symbols in the air, his eyes burning with the same purple pattern of emptiness he'd tried to intimidate Chakravartin with.
A thick, cloying mist filled the small area of their battle, the wet dirt ground beneath their feet feeling more like asphalt and concrete, a lone streetlight flickering above them, the illusions smelling and looking and feeling so real. Hendy let go of the main one he was crafting, and three chains formed of clinking metal glowing with red sigils formed out of thin air, wrapping themselves around Odin's arms and neck.
"In a city much like this....I used to live. I played the games of my world, made some friends. One of 'em, big bloke named Munin, used to tell me stories of Asgard and the Norse gods. A genuine Viking, drinking in a shitty little club on Pratt Street. Finest brawler to ever lay one across my left side." Hendy was reloading his gun, watching as Odin struggled and choked against the chains tightening around his neck. "I humored him, after all, he was buying. But out of all those stories, you know what one of my thoughts was?" He pointed the barrel up towards the sky, finger on the trigger.
"Loki was the smart one. Made the rest of you look like fools. Even if the "Allfather" was so supremely powerful. Guess what?"
BLAM. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM.
The Ravnos leaned forward, the smoking barrel of the gun in his hand. "Odin gets his powers and knowledge by hangin' from a tree for seven days and dyin'. Also known as..."
He pressed the barrel against the God's forehead, extracting a nasty sizzling sound as he sears the old man's flesh with the red hot metal. "Bein' a little bitch."
The chains broke as Hendy withdrew the gun, Odin letting out a mighty bellow of rage. The last ounces of power in a dying boar. The vampire danced backward, avoiding furious swipes and stabs , his metropolitan illusion dissolving at exactly the wrong moment. A tree stump was revealed to the Norse deity, and his attacks pushed Hendy backwards over the stump, causing him to fall over backwards. He hit the ground with a thud, and the vampire let out a snarl of frustration as the spear went through his shoulder, pinning him to the muddy earth.
Quote:714 Words
“I don’t wanna be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me.”