Tsk tsk

[garantundkraft]

Hey, mundane, you know what you were saying about me being horrible about dealing with people? Pot. Kettle. I think you know where I'm going with this.

What's that? I'm not helping? Uh, well, considering how the muse/mundane relationship works, you're asking the wrong guy. Besides, I'm not happy with you either.

You know why. Now be a mundane worthy of the awesome me and fix your shit.

Comments

[fotlenke]

Are you the man who injured the Greek United Kingdom alongside the Horse-Rutter?

[garantundkraft]

...Uh. Horse... Rutter? ::He's thrown for a loop, otherwise he'd figure that one out on his own.::

[fotlenke]

Lo-ki.

[garantundkraft]

Oh! Oh right, Sleipnir, right. ::Ah, she did ask a question, didn't she?::

Jepp. That was me. What for?

[fotlenke]

[ She gives him the most lovely, sweetest smile.






...and then pulls a dagger from a sheath at her hip. ]

I vowed to the Great Kingdom that I would sever your manhood or at least scatter your entrails about the dirt. Do hold still. This will hurt very much.

[garantundkraft]

Is that all? Forgive me if I'm not the least bit frightened, Fräulein.

[fotlenke]

Silence the prattling and draw your weapon, thief.

[garantundkraft]

Uh, not really feeling compelled to. Sorry.

[fotlenke]

How sad. [ Annnnd, she's going to run and slash at you anyways. Will you dodge? ]

[potatomasher]

...

[Oh, brother. What's he going to do with you...]

Seeing this, my mundane seems at unease that he is having some sort of déjà vu... Though your mun and you have something in common, at least.

[garantundkraft]

Hey Westchen. Older West? Ah, whatever.

The mundane says to tell yours to not worry so much! Which, heh, he sounds like you. Wonder if all mundanes have something in common with their muses?

[garantundkraft]

::He draws his bayonet as she charges him, but with the short distance the more expedient response is to dodge, not block or counter-attack.::

What the fuck is your problem?!

[fotlenke]

You took a man's heart! A finger, a toe, a bone-- but you took a heart!

[ Back in she goes, slashing at him and sweeping out arms and legs to try and knock him off his feet. ]

[garantundkraft]

::Seven centuries of warfare has left him with knowledge of combat. So for now, he's dodging and blocking, but not going on the offensive just yet. He can't help it! She's still a woman, even if she's trying to gut him!::

Yeah?! You think I haven't been read the riot act already, lady?! As much as I like my guts and my balls where they are, you aren't fucking capable of doing worse to me than what already has been!

::Someone should tell him this is Sigyn. You know, a goddess.::

[fotlenke]

[ Sigyn lashes out with her dagger, while raising a hand, blue magic crackling in her palm. ]

Ah, a challenge.

[garantundkraft]

::...OH COME ON.

Does he have a freaking sign on his back saying, "Magic Users! Assemble!" or some shit? Because he keeps. running. into. them.

And considering his magic ability is non-existent? This is a problem!::

...are you fucking shitting me.

[fotlenke]

[ She throws attack magic. Searing, hot sparks that rain down, ineffective upon herself, but they should be hell on someone not immune. ]

Beg Arthur's forgiveness, and I may let you live.

[garantundkraft]

::That would be him. He tries to dodge, and perhaps escapes the worst, but he's still hit by many of those sparks. They burn, scorching his arm and side. His face is hidden behind his arm, which takes the brunt of the assault. Prussia hisses in pain, but won't give her the satisfaction of a louder cry.::

Ha! You think one such as me fears death? Bring it, bitch.

::Despite his injuries and disadvantage, he rushes her, bringing his bayonet up to strike at her gut.::

[fotlenke]

[ She pushes a quick defensive magic at the bayonet so that it only prods rather than puncture. She stabs at his shoulder with her dagger, growling, looking to make a mark and drag him down. ]

Death becomes you.

[volcanic_winter]

That's a bit harsh.....

[garantundkraft]

Oh that's fucking awesome of you. What, can't take what you dish out? Gotta hide behind your fucking magic to take down one little nation?

Pathetic.

::His voice is strained as he drops his bayonet. Not that he's beaten yet. He kicks out, trying to knock her legs out from under her.::

[garantundkraft]

Ah, which part? Not that I think I was too hard on him, but I'm curious.

[fotlenke]

Puny.

[ She hadn't expected the kick and she falls. ]

Ngh!

[ She scrambles and grabs at his leg, digging her nails in. ]

[garantundkraft]

::Knowing when you're severely outmatched is sometimes the best strategy, so when she goes down, he's pulling away. Even if she digs her nails in, Prussia will use all his strength to get away. And then make a hasty tactical advance away from her!::

[fotlenke]

[ He can run...but she still has the advantage of magic. A noose, to wrap about his neck, magic string tight. She pulls, getting to her knees. ]