Fenrisulfr - Epic Fail

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Shiro is minding his own business this afternoon and a bunch of Asgardians attack. Shiro has no problem putting them back in their place.


One of the urban benefits of his powers, Shiro discovered, was that there was no need to ever take public transportation. Not only did that save him a few dollars every day, but it meant he could come and go as he pleased, bringing in some much needed spontaneity into an overly structured lifestyle. So with summer classes for the day done, Shiro quietly sneaked up to the roof, quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then rocketed uptown. He landed in a secluded area of Central Park minutes later, a place where he'd spent a lot of his free time the past couple of years, and with a smirk sat down beneath a tree and took out his sketchpad to begin an assignment.

The particular patch of Central Park wasn't as secluded as someone might think. Spread throughout the trees, a number of men and women were slowly making their way through the underbrush. They walked carefully and with a purpose. Anyone who would have caught a look at them would have found to them have been nondescript, if oddly the same, from their clothing to their hair.

A man in the lead, sporting a thick reddish beard, paused and gestured for the group to spread out around the young man under the tree.

Engrossed though he was in his drawing, years of carefully trained paranoia nagged at Shiro. He looked up from his pad and saw nothing. He frowned, wondering if the events of the past week had made him overly anxious or if the Enchantress actually was stalking him to avenge her embarrassment. So he briefly shifted his eyes to infrared and looked around, and silently cursed when a few humanoid blobs of red came into focus behind a dense veil of trees. "There is no one I do not hate right now," he said mostly to himself, packing away his sketchpad and pencils before rising to his feet.

As he gained his feet, the group abandoned any further pretense of a sneak assault and appeared at the edge of the trees. The leader nodded and they spread out in a loose half circle in front of Shiro. None of them looked armed though a few were cupping small objects in their hands and all of them were glaring at the one man in front of them.

"You will come with us," the large man in front growled, his voice heavily accented. "Either quietly or unconscious."

Shiro rolled his eyes and shifted his sight back to visible light. "You forgot to say 'please.'" He didn't quite drop into an offensive stance, but he made it quite clear from the way he held himself that neither suggestion would be an option. "My last week has not been a good one," he said, sizing up his soon-to-be opponents, "So I will be blunt. Leave now with all of your skin, or take another step forward and become guinea pigs for stem cell skin grafts."

The man snapped out a command in a harsh, unfamiliar language and those who weren't holding objects in their hands moved forward. Two were barehanded but the other produced a wicked looking knife from his sleeve. Armed, he obviously felt confident going up against someone who wasn't wielding anything and he darted in from the left, looking to maim their target long enough to let the rune wielders do their work on containing him. He was useless to them dead.

"~Don't say I didn't warn you,~" muttered Shiro in Japanese. He was in the air the second the first attacker stepped forward, and a rocketing knee to the face brought him down just as quickly. Shiro couldn't help but smirk at the sickening crunch of a breaking nose.

One of the unarmed would be kidnappers, stepped over her fallen comrade – who was completely out cold even as the blood from the broken, and slightly seared, nose dripped onto the grass at their feet. The new one was built like an Amazon but she was circling Shiro warily after his little demonstration, trying to figure out how best to grapple a man who could catch on fire.

Shiro flew back a few feet to get some room, ran a quick calculation in his head, and then cannonballed attacker number two. The moment he came into contact with her torso, he uncurled and blasted, knocking her clear into a tree. In one fluid motion he landed, grabbed the fallen knifer's weapon, and threw it at the third attacker. It wasn't a weapon he was familiar with at all, so he wasn't surprised that he missed his mark. But a second later, he raised his other hand and blasted again.

The blast caught the man full on and he was sent tumbling, head over heels, into the bush beyond the remaining attackers. "This was easier with the others," the large man muttered under his breath before pointing at the people cupping their hands. "~Contain him! Use the runes and please our gods, else there will be pain for you later.~"

Immediately, they bowed their heads over their hands and started murmuring, rubbing the sigil on the runes they were protectively holding. Nodding in satisfaction as he watched them get to work, he threw himself at their target, intent on breaking him down and dragging him back to where they needed him. The rune workers might not be very good but they worked with what they were given.

There was plenty of time and space to dodge, but Shiro didn't, and let the leader tumble into him. Shiro's smirk grew wider as he fell, and he lifted his legs to throw his attacker off him. Jumping back to his feet, he waited for the leader to get back to his before rushing forward to punch him in the face.

The blows were heavy and fast and before he had been caught up with the religious fervor that drove him now, Edvard had been involved in a lot of fights. But this was beyond his former bar brawling days. He went down with a sharp curse, knowing that something was broken in his face. It all hurt, though, and it was hard to pinpoint exactly what hurt the worst. Behind Shiro, he saw his people falter, the glow from the runes dying down as they saw him fall. A brief moment of hesitation, of glancing between him and the formerly easy kidnap victim and they took off, leaving Edvard alone with a very angry looking mutant.

"Fuming" was probably the most apt adjective to describe Shiro. He reached down to grab a handful of shirt and pulled his attacker to his feet. Tendrils of smoke rose from where fist met fabric. Shiro slammed him against a tree, dark brown eyes boring into deep blue. "I will offer you a choice. Either I kill you now, or you tell me who the fuck you are and maybe escape with both arms."

Edvard hissed in pain and struggled to release some of the pressure but to no avail, he was held far too tightly and he was still woozy from the blows to the head. He eyed Shiro for a moment and weighed his options. Either way, he was looking at potential death. This boy could fry him where he stood but if he revealed who had sent the followers to gather the sheep, if he named his gods to this heathen, then he most certainly would be put to death. "~Forgive us for this failure,~" he said as a peaceful look crossed his face as he waited for Shiro to do whatever he was going to do next.

Shiro started. Whatever language this man spoke wasn't something he understood, but it was familiar. Three months as the servant of the Norns had taught him much. "~Asgardian?~" he asked, his accent flat from years of disuse. He slammed the man against the tree again. "~Tell whoever your master is that they will not have me. Do you understand?~"

The man's eyes widened slightly at the turn of events. “~I . . .~” Edvard frowned and quickly thought this over. It might still turn out badly for him in the end but it was better than the alternative of either being killed there or back home. “~Whatever you wish,~” he said after a moment's hesitation.

"Good." Just leaving this guy probably wasn't the smartest idea, but it was unfortunately the only option. And if this was some new Norse cult, then whatever entity they worshiped would do worse to them than Shiro could. That thought was some comfort.

As was another punch, this one leaving a red fist-shaped mark on the man's cheek. "Worst summer vacation ever," he spat, picking up his things and flying away.