NIGHT 64: MEDICAL WING HALL

[envy_the_sinners]

_{[From here]}

Looking around, Scar wasn't quite sure what to expect upon this returning visit to the medical wing. It was silent, for now. Scar shined his light around each corner as he moved silently through the room, ready for something to jump out at him at any moment. He wasn't sure of what to expect, but he held his scalpel at the ready with his free hand. It was feeble protection at best, but Scar was a sitting duck without his alchemic arm.

He still wasn't sure if he would actually want it back, though.

Comments

[complicatedliar]

Loki had already begun to move the moment he'd thrown the daggers. He expected Kratos to be a canny opponent, after the quick way the man had reacted at the beginning of the attack, and because of the impression he'd gotten previously during the night they'd gone to the medical wing.

He wasn't quite expecting the shockwave, however.

The concussive force of the wave threw him back into the wall and he hit with a resounding crack. The shock of it was enough to break his concentration. All of the illusions temporarily shattered, leaving only him and all of the blood on the floor visible.

"Ah..." he wheezed, then started chuckling. Loki pulled himself away from the dent he'd made in the wall, cracks radiating out from the impact point. He was sore and winded, one of his ribs twinging in a familiar and unpleasant way. But he'd gotten far worse from Thor, who packed a much nastier kind of shockwave. "Excellent trick, Kratos. I've some more of my own; pity I'm not allowed to use them."

He called the daggers back to his hands, catching them with a practiced motion, spinning them idly. Even as he did so, he dropped an illusion around himself, telling it to multiply and moved quickly to the side. A moving target, after all, was much harder to hit.

Thor might have taken this as some invitation for an epic clash, a great battle between warriors. Loki was not his false brother in any way. He had no desire to make this a play at war; he simply took from it the lesson that he would have to treat Kratos with more caution.

[forsworn]

"I thought you deserved at least one; it seemed only fair." To be honest, Kratos hadn't been expecting the shockwave either--as in, expecting it to hit. It was instinct to retaliate as quickly as possible, and he'd just gone with the option that made the most sense given his mobility and positioning.

Thus, he couldn't help but smile inwardly at this very small and petty victory, despite its cost: he was still on guard, sword raised, but already, his arms were beginning to ache--his injured one, especially--and his breath was starting to come short and fast. The damage from last night was only compounding the fatigue that came with the use of his mana, and with the injury to his leg, things were just adding up. They needed to escape this fight before it escalated any further.

Kratos glanced down at Flynn. "I'm sorry; I can do something about your leg, but not with my hands tied like this. I'll have to ask you to hold on for just a bit longer." How much longer, he couldn't say. They were back to multiple Lingormrs popping up in a dizzying sort of way, and there was no way he could launch another attack of the previous one's magnitude, not if he wanted to heal Flynn later.