1964-04-21 - Of Gods and Shadows
Summary: "Amora" asks Creel to kill Thor and her other enemies. What?
Related: None
Theme Song: None
amora creel 


The Absorbing Man. Within New York, he might be one of the greatest sleeping giants in terms of potential power. A man who once siphoned the essence of Mojo himself, and risked destroying countless realities. What is a being of such possible majesty doing? Scratching his ass while going through his fridge for the fifth time, trying to find a beer he is pretty sure he hadn't drank yet. Mustard. Mayo. Expired milk. Moldy cheese. "Goddamnit." He's not lacking money. Here and there are piles of laundered cash. Yet he's lazy, and the ease of high living has never been of interest to him in the first place. Power and respect you can buy, but not with the base trappings his petty crimes have managed since he entered the world. Interviewing Lois, working for Mojo, both of these netted him nothing. Assuredly within a slump, to say the least. In the end he risks the milk, plucking it up and leaving the fridge askew to begin trudging through his filthy apartment towards his oversized recliner, facing a dingy but workable television blaring whatever the best show currently available is. He might be in a torn wifebeater and comical boxers, but the hardness and strength of his huge body is still at it's peak. Exercise is the only destresser keeping him sane right now, even if he might be cashing in the sedentary life between such too much…

*

Between a flicker of sunlight that made it through dusty shades and the blink of an eye a beautiful vision appeared. A swirl of dark green power sparkled around her as she simply was. Tall, statuesque and perfectly sculpted to be is very mind's eye of ideal beauty. Green trimmed in tarnished gold enclosed her figure in a tight fitting bodice and scraps of gossamer green barely covered her thighs. Golden hair tumbled down her back in streams of curls and braids with green beads interwoven into them.

She sat, perched on the television set with long legs crossed in a recline. "Oh what a sad and sorry state for such a worthy warrior to be. A tragedy in and of itself. It brings tears to mine eyes to see a man of your talent brought so low." Her voice was soft and sultry, ruby lips curving into a wicked smile for all the sympathy that was supposed to be in her words.

*

The green flash makes Creel wince for a moment, rubbing the side of his eyes. Perhaps he thought it came from the drone of the television, given he ignores it to heavily settle in his chair. Leaning over to yank the lever and extend his legs, he almost jumps a mile at the offered voice. "Jesus!" he hisses, although the stare towards Amora is… well, eyes take the scenic route more than once, to say the least. "What the hell… is my damn television cursed? First that yellow guy, now you!" He's still gripping his milk, although unusually tight. "…you're a hell of a lot better on the eyes, though…"

*

A joyful laugh, followed as he jumped and Amora vanished into a cloud of swirling magic, only to reappear behind him, fingers reaching out with a manicured grace to trace over his shoulders as she leaned over the side of the chair. "I should hope so, my darling dear. I am the fairest of the fair. None can surpass me nor will." She breathed, confidence in every word that dripped from her mouth like honey.

"Unlike yond box however, I can make your life a much, much more worthy affair. One worthy of song rather than the wretched state you find yourself in. A battle against the Gods, fair and foul.." She murmured with a smile.

*

The sudden paff and appearance behind makes Creel jump to his feet. As is worthy for a man of his strength, his foot is caught in the extended legrest, and he nearly falls over, milk flying out of his hand to hit the ground and splatter. "Damnit!!" Well, he's not going to clean THAT up very well. Another mild inconvenience to his unfulfilling life. "I don't wanna talk about the LAST person who came in here, making me offers. What the hell is it about me?! Well." He puffs up his chest a touch. "I AM pretty damn strong. Even if most people're too ignorant to tell. …not that I ever made the debut I wanted…" Eyes still rove over Amora now and then. She's familiar with it, of course. The goddess of beauty and desire. This is a base mortal with a base mind, and responding every bit to such as she expects.

*

She didn't laugh at least, as he tumbled down to the floor and swore. She looked vaguely amused at his roving eyes, it was expected, it would've been strange after all, if he hadn't admired her. A roll of her shoulders followed and she tossed her hair back from her face with a slow smile. A wink, and the spilled milk vanished with a flick of her hand as if it had never been.

"Don't you want to help me, my warrior? A kiss would be the least of your reward for aiding me in my quest against those that wronged me so vile and terribly. You are the only one that could possibly defeat the God of Thunder and others at his side." She sniffed, fluttering dark eyelashes.

A hand, so refined and manicured with green paint was held out stretched toward him.

*

Some people might be special figures, strong wills of proud ambitions. Worthy to stand before Amora, and see her as a true woman rather than her allure, beauty and power. This is no such man. Glancing back towards the milk, there's a look of confusion. "You're a spellcaster-type." he mutters, now looking a touch more wary. Although 'kiss' makes his brows raise high. "The least?" he repeats, before stopping. "Wait. You mean Thor? Tch. I'd crush him." Fists slam together, the sound dense and hard. "Nobody wants to fight me. I don't blame them. Maybe I ought to take the fight to them, huh?!"

*

A blazing smile pulled over her features as she bent toward him, glittering ruby lips pulled tight over white teeth at his words. She clasped her hands just beneath her bust, arms tucked at her sides as she coo'ed in his direction. "You would crush him for me? Oh, you are the man I was searching for all this time." She breathed, her voice the sort of airy manner that made men's minds short circuit to other breathless moments.

"Him, his brother Loki, the vile creature, and all those that help him." She fluttered her eyelashes. "You, my brave warrior shouldn't have any trouble with them.." She purred, leaning toward him and reached out a hand to hold out some small black disk in his direction.

*

Creel leans backwards instinctively, as if not feeling comfortable with Amora being so close. Intimidated on more than a few levels. He's not unattractive, but unless someone is drawn to sheer physique, it's not the sort that's fit to be anywhere near a woman of the Enchantress' level. "Uh huh…" he states, before glancing at the disc. He hesitates before moving out to take it. "What's this? …And I better get more than a maybe-kiss if I'm gonna help you." Secretly, the idea of throwing down with Thor has his attention, but any machinations beyond that he hardly cares about.

*

A smirk painted on her lips as she released the small disk into his hands. "A tracking spell is on that stone, which will show you where you must go to see out mine enemies." She shifting her hand reaching to trace along his jawline unless he pulled away.

"As for your reward?" She arched a brow, and green eyes flickered with light. "We shall see if you're truly as worthy as I believe you to be." She pushed into his personal space, making to try to press a kiss to lips sealed with magic. The power of command to back the words he'd already agreed to.

"But you'll not speak of who sent you either, darling." She leaned away after the kiss, magic leaking from her finger tips as she spoke.

*

Looking over the disc, there's an obvious question. "The heck do I use it?" He still places it on top of his television either way for now. But then he turns to find an Amora all up in his business. Eyes are widen, and the kiss makes him freeze. This has nothing to do with her spell; it's simply the best one he's ever had in his life, and she wasn't even trying to achieve such. Stupefied, he nods dumbly, touching his lips with the back of a hand. "Y-yeah. …Alright. I'll, uh. …Get right on that…"

*

A breathless sigh followed as she eyed him over once more, "You'll need a weapon I think too." She waved her hands and the television contorted, melting down into something that resembled an axe. It glowed with a dark purple hue floated there. A smirk painting over her lips as she eyed her handiwork.

"Tis no hammer, but an enchanted axe. It won't break easily, if at all. A fine tool if you desire it." The little disk continued to float where the TV had been. It was unsettling to say the least.

"For how to find those you seek, think on them and you shall find them. It will tug you in the direction your desire lies."

*

Creel grunts. "I don't need no weapon due to my fists." he growls out. But the axe is still observed, wondering what properties it might have otherwise. If he absorbed it, then… well. That's another story entirely. "…but I want my damn television back, too." he finally states, grimacing. It had sentimental value. He's had it for ages, and Mojo yelled at him through it. Plus Amora's ass was touching it. Lot of good times. "Alright, fine. I'll start with Thor. Work my way from there. For now. Once I bring down thunder-boy, you better make it worth my while, though!"

*

A toss of her golden hair and she rolled her eyes, with a sweep of her hand, three more TVs appeared identical to the previous one that had occupied the space. "Very well, then you may have such." She heaved a sigh, and draped a hand over her hips as she eyed him up and down slowly.

"If you can prove yourself worthy my darling, you shalt have everything you ask for." She murmured with a wink, "And more."

With a flutter of those dark eyelashes she vanished in another cloud of the deepest green, it appeared almost black in the sunlight.

*

Creel scratches his ass a bit more, going over to pick up the axe and look it over. "The new ones just aren't the same… I bet this doesn't even get reception anymore." he grumbles, tilting it to look at his own reflection. Then he absorbs it, the same twisted purple running down his body. Once fully manifested, he looks at his left arm, and that, too, forms a massive axe blade. Before he grins. Well. Unlike Mojo… he's feeling rather more passion for THIS particular endeavor…!!

*

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