"I said, stop kicking me in the backs of the legs, you wretched oaf!" Mr. Croup shuffles along as fast as his small legs will carry him, which is pretty damn fast, but Mr. Vandemar behind him has a far lengthier stride.
"Neron prefers a smart, tidy appearance. You could call him critical, fastidious, punctilious or even, dare I say it, fussbudgety, so do stop connecting your mucky boots with the backs of my trouser legs, Mr. V!"
"Sometimes, Mr. C, I have no idea what you're saying." Mr. Vandemar tries to slow his stride, but it only succeeds in making him lose his footing on the slippery cobbles. He slips, is about to fall, and then shifts through time and space, appearing several feet back down the corridor firmly on his feet.
He hurries to catch up with his colleague, and as they enter Neron's chamber he tips his head briefly before going straight to the long food table.
"Ah, our esteemed employer. You find us in harried circumstance, alas." Mr. Croup makes a bow as deep as his stomach will allow, before righting himself. "We have been pursued on foot by artists of the martial variety."
Shiva has been following the trail of those who have taken him. She has had companions along the journey but right at this moment the who and the when and the where are fast becoming less relevant to her. So focused on the trail is she that the others have become less relevant to her searching.
At the same time, some part of her knows that she will need Dragon, at the very least, to get out of this situation.
Gotham Below is a strange place - very familiar, but at the same time strange and disorienting. He and Cassandra have become separated, and Dragon's senses are reaching out for familiar touchstones - so he finds, instead, Cassandra's mother.
Shiva turns and looks at him with the expression of someone who has been focused too long on one thing and is having a little trouble pulling away from it. Then again, she might not want to pull away. "I had been waiting for you."
The imps are quick to fight, but quicker to fall. They seem no more substantial than the air, falling in pieces with each kick and punch. As Dragon and Shiva slay the last of their demonic tormentors, loud and measured clapping begins to echo around them.
One of the strange, eerily pulsating walls aroung them recedes, and as it does a tableaus comes into view: a large black throne, and suspended above it a familiar young man hanging from the ceiling. The throne's occupant is slouched upon it, regarding his guests with a lupine grin and eyes that glitter with savage mirth.
"Lady Shiva..." the man begins, letting the name roll of his tongue with far more enjoyment than would be considered appropriate, even for a demon. "Welcome."
Neron pointedly extends no such welcome to Richard Dragon as he rises from his throne.
Shiva pauses, the stop awkward as she does so. Especially with that tone speaking her voice. It brings her up short in a way that not much does, her eyes narrowed. There is no reply, no comment in return as she has never been one for words and she does not feel she can accept his welcome at all.
"You continue to impress me, Dragon." Neron inclines his head to the martial artist almost playfully.
"It might interest you to know that Croup and Vandemar have not met defeat in physical combat since the days of Rome. Your strength is unparalleled. Of course, I knew that... when I enlisted you to bring this goddess to my doorstep."
The demon lord looks between Dragon and shiva eagerly. "I take it you never knew, my dear?" He punctuates his question by running his tongue along his lips indecently, almost as if reaching out to taste the discomfort of his guests.
Neron steeples his hands, leaning forward in his seat.
"Your soul for his, Lady. You gain the knowledge of knowing that your beloved pupil still lives - whatever good that may do you. I get the honor - and pleasure - of your extended company."
"Of course, there is another option." Neron continues, taking far too much enjoyment out of playing Mr. Exposition. "However, the price I ask will be so high you may well wish you had forfeited your soul to me and been done with it." He chuckles darkly.
Well, now. That's got Dragon's attention. Arms folded across his chest, he waits for Neron to finish.. all the while his eyes searching the room for something to turn against the demon lord.
Shiva's eyes narrow, as if she's trying to understand what he's saying. It seems as if there is something that just is not making any sense to her. There is nothing she wants from this ... creature other than Little Bird's soul. And that... That seems impossible.
Comments 43
"Neron prefers a smart, tidy appearance. You could call him critical, fastidious, punctilious or even, dare I say it, fussbudgety, so do stop connecting your mucky boots with the backs of my trouser legs, Mr. V!"
Reply
He hurries to catch up with his colleague, and as they enter Neron's chamber he tips his head briefly before going straight to the long food table.
Reply
Reply
Reply
This is unacceptable.
Shiva has been following the trail of those who have taken him. She has had companions along the journey but right at this moment the who and the when and the where are fast becoming less relevant to her. So focused on the trail is she that the others have become less relevant to her searching.
At the same time, some part of her knows that she will need Dragon, at the very least, to get out of this situation.
Reply
"Shiva..?"
Reply
Shiva turns and looks at him with the expression of someone who has been focused too long on one thing and is having a little trouble pulling away from it. Then again, she might not want to pull away. "I had been waiting for you."
Reply
Probably not, else one of them would be on the ground.
Reply
One of the strange, eerily pulsating walls aroung them recedes, and as it does a tableaus comes into view: a large black throne, and suspended above it a familiar young man hanging from the ceiling. The throne's occupant is slouched upon it, regarding his guests with a lupine grin and eyes that glitter with savage mirth.
"Lady Shiva..." the man begins, letting the name roll of his tongue with far more enjoyment than would be considered appropriate, even for a demon. "Welcome."
Neron pointedly extends no such welcome to Richard Dragon as he rises from his throne.
Reply
Reply
Dragon folds his arms across his chest, smirking at the demon lord Neron.
Reply
"It might interest you to know that Croup and Vandemar have not met defeat in physical combat since the days of Rome. Your strength is unparalleled. Of course, I knew that... when I enlisted you to bring this goddess to my doorstep."
The demon lord looks between Dragon and shiva eagerly. "I take it you never knew, my dear?" He punctuates his question by running his tongue along his lips indecently, almost as if reaching out to taste the discomfort of his guests.
Reply
"Your soul for his, Lady. You gain the knowledge of knowing that your beloved pupil still lives - whatever good that may do you. I get the honor - and pleasure - of your extended company."
"Of course, there is another option." Neron continues, taking far too much enjoyment out of playing Mr. Exposition. "However, the price I ask will be so high you may well wish you had forfeited your soul to me and been done with it." He chuckles darkly.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment