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 Posted: Mon May 18, 2009 9:57 pm
Cocking a brow the Gael glances up, trying to inspect the space on his crown just kissed by the Cainite, making a slight face in jest of the moment.
"Yeah well, the great hopping lunatic was my brother. He stuck his neck out for me enough times. As fer the work i've been doing? Not sure I know what you're talkin' about."
Playing coy, Fenrir would duck back over the counter and go about finding another Guinness.
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Posted: Mon May 18, 2009 11:43 pm
I can smell them on you, you're a lousy liar.
*She commented idly, then sought and lit a cigarette, her gaze slowly unfocusing befire she heaved a sigh and leant her head on her hand*
Thank you. I do not know what'd happen if I tried mopping up those filthy left overs myself... I blame them too much for my losses still. And I have bigger fish to fry. Before my remaining kids do themselves a mischief without me.
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Posted: Tue May 19, 2009 8:47 am
Pulling up a stool, Fenrir opted to sit opposite Roan at the counter, rather than sit once more upon it as he opened this new can of stout.
"Lady, i'm just doing the same as i've always done. These things, these... loathsome creatures that feed upon, rape, and opress mankind... Worse yet, the poor souls who once were, humble and human.... "
Rather pointedly, though in the least offensive manner he could manage, Fenrir raised his eyes to Roan, the most serious expression he had shown up until this point this evening focused passionately on her.
"Mankind has suffered travesties at the hands of immortals, gods, and monsters alike from the moment they first inhabited this earth. With my ever last breath, I have fought to save for them even the slightest measure of peace and fairness, or return to the later, their honour, and peace. Make no mistake, in my eyes you are a monster, Roan DeSeer. You however still have your love for your sons. Even the slightest ounce of that humanity, makes us human."
He would then, provided Roan didn't attempt to put him through a wall or three, take a sip of his Guinness, before glancing over at his swords, still crossed on the counter.
"I've fought with a great deal of men. Brave, oustanding men AND women. All of which have since passed. Freinds, brothers and sisters in arms. Warrior comrades that devoted their lives to a single thing, and seeking perfection in it. Lucas had told me, you were a great warrior. Despite my views, by his word alone I would gladly stand with you in war, if only to see for my self what he saw in you."
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Posted: Tue May 19, 2009 11:10 am
You got me. Im old, jaded, addicted to conflicted, and... as you say... a monster.
One right does not a saint make. When all the wars are over and theres nothing left to fight... I, like my son before me, will need putting down or putting away for the greater good. I know this. I know I am a blight, an abnormality, a pestilence.
*She exhaled a smoke ring and gazed at Fenrir, not inclined to hit or hurt him for simply stating truth*
Prehaps you are to be my salvation, Fenrir. My sons will not do what will have to be done. The only one who would have understood and COULD have done so... is gone. Fight at my side, see if I DO have enough worth and honour to at least be remembered, but promise me you will not forget I am a monster, and that when I need it, you will be among those that do the right thing. Narok's own brother would be a fitting Longinus to my very warped and jaded martyrdom.
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 9:10 am
"Saints? Ptch... The saints are all long gone, love. In their place stand men and women to do what is right, and if the day should come you need putting down, and accept that, then we shall both be counted. Salvation however, is another matter. Neither of us has a hope."
Again, throwing back a few mouthfulls of stout, Fenrir wiped his mouth with his forearm, manners set aside some time ago, say, at creation?
"Dont worry. For now, I have the oath I made to my brother, and the fact your are helping in my self apointed task. But when the time comes that you must go, you will again know a Blazeheart's fury. A Blazeheart's blade. Before however, a Blazeheart's respect."
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 9:16 am
I do not need, want, or expect salvation. I admit what I am and I regret nothing. I am a monster. I am a warrior. I am a mother. I am damned. These things are simply fact.
*she took another drag on her cancer stick and exhaled with a slight purr*
You better be as good a fighter as he was... even if I KNOW I need to be put down, I wont go easy, or half heartedly. He almost killed me... you;re going to have to be better. Think you're up to it?
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 9:26 am
Fenrir smirked at the last query, turning so as to face Roan, eyes leveled with her own, his whole heart and soul visible if she wished, not that it was hard to ignore in those deep cerulean pools.
"Lucas Scarred me once...."
Raising his free left hand, he lightly tapped the bridge of his nose, gesturing to the horizontal scar across his cheeks and nose.
"Lucas, and I... We were both strong. Both of us calculated, but he focused on power, where as I leaned more towards agility, and versatility. When that day comes however, Roan... Know that ou wont face me alone. Lucas will be there, with me."
Leaning back again, Fenrir made to lift his can of stout, however forgot, again the angle combined with the weight and gave a quiet wince, immediately setting the can back down once again, as his free hand cupped over his right wrist, caressing gingerly.
"Of course, after Sparky took off my hand, and Corbin re-atached it, i've struggled with the weight alone of my sword.... He was rushed, after all I guess...."
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 9:30 am
Then allow me to help where he left off...
*She set Ansuz to one side and held both her own hands up, asking him to lay his between the two. She'd seen the way his eyes had changed, heard the cencerity in his voice... and unlike most people who knew they were sitting next to their killer, she reached out to help, not hinder*
What was done to Nar... Lucas... let me undo for you. I made it hard for him to lift a blade, I will make it easier for you.
*Something of an act of absolution, prehaps.*
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 9:35 am
Cocking a brow, Fenrir reluctantly let go of his drink and gingerly settled his right wrist between her hands.
"Call him Narok, I dont mind a bit. To me, he will always be Lucas, just like to him.... I am Joseph. We both chose our new names, for our new bodies, and lives.... You knew him as Narok."
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 9:41 am
Aye. Ragnarok Blazeheart, father of Corbin Blazeheart, husband to Sasha firestarter... but none of those convey so much as a nickname. Strange, neh?
*She was murmuring idly as she ran her fingers tips very gently over the join at his wrist, feeling the raised tissue, and probing deeper to the craft beneath.
She frowned slightly and curled her tail about Ansuz. Corbin was the new blodo god, and PHENOMENAL at fleshcraft, where she had become simply brilliant at it, due to who she had picked it up from. Couldnt hurt to hope the patron god of this stuff would give moral support.
SHe didnt delve INTO his hand, wrist or arm. She didnt split the skin, force or manipulate skin and bone, she simply held his wrist between both of her hands and let her mind slide inside, visualising how an arm, from top to bottom, should work. Bone work first. Then tendon. Then muscle. Then blood vessels, then skin. One layer after another, very carefully visualised, her power flickering like a fire between her hands as she willed his body to heal as a Cainites healed, willed his bones and muscle and the like to adjust just slightly where they werent quite aligned, to relieve the issues. She did not however get rid of the scar.*
One should always remember. Any better?
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 9:55 am
Wincing faintly at the minimalistic work done to his wrist, Fenrir would simply nod with regards to her idle murmers. Slight as it may have been, and gentle, fleshcrafting was still the art of changing living tissue. Cells were being altered at an accelerated rate within his arm and such a thing was a riot on the nerves.
Finally, as the procedure was completed, the Gael would pull his hand back, and perform a few stretche. Rolling the wrist, flicking his hand and such, before lifting his stout and taking a sip, with an impressed, and appreciative smile.
"MUCH better, I nearly had my a** sat firmly down just the other day in a bar brawl because of the damn thing...."
Setting his drink down, the man dubbed as 'The Mad Gael' would reach over the counter to where his swords lay, holding it, still sitting, as if to draw the rather homely looking japanese blade. He then indeed did, though now with quite the same force and speed as an attack. He simply drew the blade.
Fenrir would then idly run his free hands fingers over the back of the blade, and in a rather brief, though flashy display the generic sword become an entity of light, energy, before its mass expanded, and dimmed to reveal the dual barelled shotgunblade. Focused, and anxious to a degree he would roll the massive sword in his hand, performing several differently angled slashes, while still mindful of the counter just to see if the wrist motions bothered him any. He would then even go so far as to flick the blade into the air, watching as it spiralled through the air in both its ascent, and descent before deftly catchin, and re-sealing it as a sheathed katana.
"VERY nice... Before, I could barely swing the bloody thing. Actively fighting with it was near impossible. Thanks, lady."
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 10:03 am
Call me Roan. I aint no Lady.
*She smiled, watching him, and fought not to let the well of memories rise up in her. He reminded her far too much of BOTH Narok and Corbin.*
The ground work was all there, it just wasnt personally tweaked and aligned to your needs. If it was a rushed job, that explains it. The basic join was excellently done, and strong.
*She wanted to stay longer, to ask him about his blade, but... she felt a tug at the egd eof her consciousness and knew she had workt o do elsewhere. She stood up, swinging both of her swords... for she considered Ansuz more hers than her own left arm now... onto her back*
I am glad I could help. I will see you again, Fenrir. For now... I have work to do.
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 10:09 am
About to set the Katana back down, crossed over the other on the counter Fenrir halted for the moment, eyes returning to Roan as he quirked a brow.
"If it is work that must be done, then by all means go. Do it.... But, ask, and you will not have to do it alone."
Instead, he stretched his fingers so as to pick up the second sheathed sword, and crossed both in his lap as he continued.
"If it is monsters that need slaying, My swords are yours. If it is enemies, or allies of yours, of my nephews, then Iam yours. You need only ask. Roan."
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 10:16 am
I....
*She looked at him and rubbed her brow*
Iden and Az will NOT like me going out hunting with you rather than them. But that said... they would be even LESS happy to know I went hunting alone....
*She leant her head back against the hilt of Ansuz and thought about the situation*
...and if you are with me, Im less likely to use this... and see him... and thus... not have to watch him go again. I cannot bear that. Not again.
I hunt monsters Fenrir. I would be honoured to have you at my right hand. Lend me your blade.
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 10:28 am
With an impish grin, Fenrir stood with such haste and eagerness the stool he had occupied screeched across the floor behind him, as he slid the pair of katanas under his belts, crossed over his rump.
"Then lets war!"
He then took up his stout, up ending the can before dropping it into a bin and vaulting the counter.
"My bike is out front, just give me the chance to change..."
Fenrir would then head out the front of the tavern, pulling out from the saddle bags of his Ducati monster the change of clothes he had mentioned before indeed, stripping down and changing right then and there.
Form fitting, though not restricting leather jeans with scarlet leather shin wraps, an equally scarlet vest complete with fur collar and long scarf. Finally, yet another belt to be worn, complete with holsters and dual 45. Magnums.
Patting himself down to ensure he had remembered everything, the Methuselah would then either lean back against his back, or re-enter the tavern to await Roan's directions, depending on her actions.
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