Back in the now, Azrael watched her with every moment he could, even as Valhalla’s fists came rushing at him. Running her index fingers around the rim of her cargos. Around… and around… and around… And the blades going with them, glinting in the glare of the hanging lights above. Hypnotic. The desire to snatch those hands and perform the action for her, but lower… and lower… Time to remove flailing fists in favour of fondling fingers? VALHALLA: Searching hook (jab-gun alpha) MISS! AZRAEL Weaves aside, eyes on Corona’s peeking underwear VALHALLA: Overhand left MISS! AZRAEL: Weaves aside, eyes on Corona’s flatpack stomach VALHALLA: Wild hook (jab-gun alpha) COUNTERED! AZRAEL: Rising uppercut stroke HIT! Up in between Valhalla’s guard and through his neck. Beheaded. OUT OF PLAY Amazing the things you can do when you put your mind to something else. Azrael didn’t even break the glance. Corona didn’t even frown with disapproval. Dead boyfriends, dead girlfriends… whatever. There were plenty of beasties in the squib pen. And some of those beasties were as wild as wild can be. Valhalla, for his part, saw a bright light. Alright, saw is the wrong word. He heard a bright light. You don’t know what I’m talking about? That’s OK, be thankful. It means you’re not dead yet.
Psytopia Adagio 1
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