Mik couldn't help but smir at the spectacle around him. He loved the press of crowds, the high energy, the smells and music and heat, and voices. It was a firestorm and he was at home inside it. Ryker was lounging, relaxed. Funny how things were different from the first time they met. This Ryker was far more enjoyable. Mik sensed that deep down, he was capable of almost anything. And he liked that quality.
He took the cigar, with a grin. "Thanks, brateek! Yeah, I gotcha!" One hand went to his red leather jacket pocket to finger the lighter. His pupils dilated and he inhaled sharply as the power rushed into him, felt the struggle and fight as he beat it down. The crowds and the sounds and the smells and everything got louder and stronger, as if they had crawled into his flesh. The firestorm whipped into a frenzy and he felt the flames lick around him. God, he was in ecstasy, as if he writhed in the heart of universe.
He saw her, then. Dear God, but she was beautiful. For some reason, today she once again wore the face of Ori. She always took different forms. Sveta and Sita, Rowen and Rina. And so many others. Today, her blood red nails were long and she wore a wicked smile. He laughed to himself. Yep. She had something up for tonight.
That feeling of pleasure and worry swirled through him. They usually went together when she was around.
A flame- touched with earth to be green because it amused him- flicked to life at the end of Ryker's cigar. A few puffs made the tip bright orange. The flame swirled playfully to his own and the hot taste on his tongue. He savored it for a moment and then pulled it out, looking at the wrapper. Cuban. He smiled, enjoying the lingering sensation on his tongue. "Dude! This is good shit!"
Another puff. "So, what's up?"
He took the cigar, with a grin. "Thanks, brateek! Yeah, I gotcha!" One hand went to his red leather jacket pocket to finger the lighter. His pupils dilated and he inhaled sharply as the power rushed into him, felt the struggle and fight as he beat it down. The crowds and the sounds and the smells and everything got louder and stronger, as if they had crawled into his flesh. The firestorm whipped into a frenzy and he felt the flames lick around him. God, he was in ecstasy, as if he writhed in the heart of universe.
He saw her, then. Dear God, but she was beautiful. For some reason, today she once again wore the face of Ori. She always took different forms. Sveta and Sita, Rowen and Rina. And so many others. Today, her blood red nails were long and she wore a wicked smile. He laughed to himself. Yep. She had something up for tonight.
That feeling of pleasure and worry swirled through him. They usually went together when she was around.
A flame- touched with earth to be green because it amused him- flicked to life at the end of Ryker's cigar. A few puffs made the tip bright orange. The flame swirled playfully to his own and the hot taste on his tongue. He savored it for a moment and then pulled it out, looking at the wrapper. Cuban. He smiled, enjoying the lingering sensation on his tongue. "Dude! This is good shit!"
Another puff. "So, what's up?"
"Good and ill.
We're like the wind,
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods