[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/Jxwk7L6.png[/img]

[h3][b][u][color=Goldenrod]The Heir to Thunder[/color][/u][/b][/h3]
[sub][color=DarkGreen][i]Prince Faen Lokison[/i][/color][/sub][/center][hr][hr][center][sub]Interacting with: [@BlackPanther][/sub][/center][hr][hr]

	[i][color=gold]"So I seem to be out of moves at the moment."[/color][/i] Faen couldn’t help but smirk. [B]This[/B] was a man who hated to ask for help, so much so that it sounded like it was almost physically painful for him to even utter that ham-handed request. Maybe it didn’t hurt as much as the Behemoth’s fists, but hurt nonetheless. That said. Faen was of half a mind to make him beg, say please at the very least, for that [i]‘need help’[/i] comment if nothing else.

	Then again, that was hardly very heroic of him. Well, not very Thor-ish or Captain America-like of him. From the research he’d done into the former Avengers members, he had developed the distinct impression that Tony Stark was a dick of legendary proportions, and more than likely would have made a man who had mildly annoyed him once beg for help when stuck in a life or death situation. But did he really want to be the Iron Man of tomorrow? Stark was hardly the most emulation worthy of the heroes of yesteryear. Hel, some would say he was only one step away from being a super-villain himself. Maybe asking yourself the question, [i]‘would Tony Stark do it?’[/i] wasn’t the best qualifier of what constituted a great idea.

	With an audible sigh the half-breed took a step forwards. Being a hero was starting to seem so utterly unrewarding. Can’t even let annoying blonde twats get splattered by inter-dimensional brutes. Where’s the fun?

	With a furrowing of his brow, realising that what he was about to do was incredibly. Mind-numbingly, truly note-worthily stupid, Faen shouted; [color=DarkGreen]“Hey! Ugly!”[/color] The Behemoth ceased its assault on the blonde human to swing towards the Prince of Lies, its small piggy eyes round-open in surprise, the dark orbs quickly narrowing in suspicion. 

	[color=DarkGreen]“Blondie over there isn’t worth your time.”[/color] The brute grunted in what might just have been agreement. [color=DarkGreen]“You need a real foe, someone with substance.”[/color] By now the Behemoth had begun moving towards Faen, each slow footfall landing with the weight of mountains, shaking the alley around them. [color=DarkGreen]“Me, I’ve got substance to spare. Half Jotun, don’t you know. Son of Loki. Prince of Lies. That’s a pedigree a man can be proud of. ”[/color] He doubted his foe was even listening to his chattering anymore, the musclebound monsters pace increasing with every step, it’s lips hitched back over its mouth, revealing a shark like smile, no doubt at the thought for getting even with the man who had imprisoned it so recently. [color=DarkGreen]“Pedigree like that, it opens all kinds of doors. Let’s a man do things like [i][b]this[/b][/i].”[/color]

	The Behemoth was mere steps away when Faen took a back step, both to give himself room and give him space to brace himself. The ring and middle fingers on his right hand curled, while the pinkie, index and thumb remained straight, pointing out and forwards. He rotated the hand clockwise, and began the incantation he had glimpsed in one of the Sorcerer Supremes tome’s, that last time he had managed to sneak into the Sanctum Sanctorum. 

	[b][i][color=DarkGreen]“BY THE CRIMSON BANDS OF CYTTORAK!”[/color][/i][/b]

	He thrust his free left hand out towards the now thoroughly confused looking Behemoth, curling all his fingers into a claw-like cage. [i]Use the right hand to unlock the might of Cyttorak the Destroyer[/i], the tome had read, [i]and the left to cage the intended victim[/i]. Pulsating, iridescent crimson ribbons of energy leapt from Faen’s hand – their essence so bright and puissant on the mystical plane that they were actually difficult to look at in the mortal world – and shot towards the gigantic brute, snaking around him until he looked like a Christmas present all tied up with a pretty red bow. The monster tried to work his way free, but struggle as he might, he just couldn’t work any slack into his binds. Seemed his power was no match for Cyttorak’s.

	[sub][color=DarkGreen]“Damn.”[/color][/sub] Faen sighed, eyes open wide in amazement. [sub][color=DarkGreen]“That actually worked!”[/color][/sub] He took another few moments to admire his own handiwork, before reluctantly tearing his eyes away to face the man he had ‘rescued’. For a moment Faen looked at him in an expectant silence, but those magic words he was waiting to hear weren’t forthcoming. Seemed the man needed a gentle reminder about common decency and manners.

	[color=DarkGreen]“You know, after a man saves your life it’s customary to say ‘thank you’.”[/color]