So Sir McStabby presented himself flamboyently, as if it were all a big game, which made Mik laugh. Finally, someone else who recognized how dumb all this was. Who didn't honestly think they were really a knight or a vampire slayer. (Though he'd seen a few in full Buffy cosplay that he hoped to be Angel to.)
Stabby McStabbyman did make him laugh, though, not.just because of his attitude, but because he apparently had a hard time figuring out how to move about in his kit. Like come on, bro! You spent all this money to be decked out and then barely avoid being tripped with your own scabbard?
Mik didn't take the fight seriously. There was nothing to be serious about. The combination of ineptness and not-caring-ness Sir Stabs-a-lot displayed only served to enhance the feeling that this was just make believe.
Without even trying, Mik trounced him. Not like to hurt. The blades were fake, for one. And it wasn't like he hit hard. But somehow, he just kept leaving openings and Mik moved without really thinking about it.
He started to play it up a bit, swirling around when he made a strike. Play to the crowd and all that. Which of course meant that when his back was turned after one particularly strong swipe of his blade at Stabby Stabberson's leg, he heard a howling scream. His head jerked back, a feeling of dread coming over him.
Which was totally odd. He wasn't sure why he would feel worry or danger suddenly. Not for this. I mean sure, he'd get the fuck out of there like yesterday. But he wouldn't feel bad. Or worried.
Even more strange, the leg appeared to be chopped in half. Mik stared from it to his foam sword and back again? He sure as fuck didn't cut the guy's leg off. Not with a toy. And that feeling was still there. The blood was pooling. Shit, he didn't need a murder rap, not with all these witnesses around. There was an artery or something in the leg.
He touch the lighter in his back pocket and the power flared to life in him. He hoped the guy didn't scream too much as he tried to figure out how to cauterize his wound.
He'd be Sir Stumpy McStump, soon enough. He stepped forward and....
...threads of the power were clearly woven around the leg. He had never seen anything like this. Lots of air and fire and water. Touches of earth. The patterns were odd. But as he looked at them, he saw how the light bent as his head and eyes moved this way and that.
The bending was subtle but as he concentrated, he could now see a slight shift as he moved his gaze. Could it be? He reached out a hand to the stump...
....and felt a knee that he couldn't see.
He looked at the guy, then, an incredulous smile on his face. "You fucking faker!! Hah! That's brilliant. He reached out a hand as an offer to bring the man to his (at least one) invisible leg.
[Jaxen modded with permission]
Stabby McStabbyman did make him laugh, though, not.just because of his attitude, but because he apparently had a hard time figuring out how to move about in his kit. Like come on, bro! You spent all this money to be decked out and then barely avoid being tripped with your own scabbard?
Mik didn't take the fight seriously. There was nothing to be serious about. The combination of ineptness and not-caring-ness Sir Stabs-a-lot displayed only served to enhance the feeling that this was just make believe.
Without even trying, Mik trounced him. Not like to hurt. The blades were fake, for one. And it wasn't like he hit hard. But somehow, he just kept leaving openings and Mik moved without really thinking about it.
He started to play it up a bit, swirling around when he made a strike. Play to the crowd and all that. Which of course meant that when his back was turned after one particularly strong swipe of his blade at Stabby Stabberson's leg, he heard a howling scream. His head jerked back, a feeling of dread coming over him.
Which was totally odd. He wasn't sure why he would feel worry or danger suddenly. Not for this. I mean sure, he'd get the fuck out of there like yesterday. But he wouldn't feel bad. Or worried.
Even more strange, the leg appeared to be chopped in half. Mik stared from it to his foam sword and back again? He sure as fuck didn't cut the guy's leg off. Not with a toy. And that feeling was still there. The blood was pooling. Shit, he didn't need a murder rap, not with all these witnesses around. There was an artery or something in the leg.
He touch the lighter in his back pocket and the power flared to life in him. He hoped the guy didn't scream too much as he tried to figure out how to cauterize his wound.
He'd be Sir Stumpy McStump, soon enough. He stepped forward and....
...threads of the power were clearly woven around the leg. He had never seen anything like this. Lots of air and fire and water. Touches of earth. The patterns were odd. But as he looked at them, he saw how the light bent as his head and eyes moved this way and that.
The bending was subtle but as he concentrated, he could now see a slight shift as he moved his gaze. Could it be? He reached out a hand to the stump...
....and felt a knee that he couldn't see.
He looked at the guy, then, an incredulous smile on his face. "You fucking faker!! Hah! That's brilliant. He reached out a hand as an offer to bring the man to his (at least one) invisible leg.
[Jaxen modded with permission]
"Good and ill.
We're like the wind,
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods