It’s been a while; rest, wicked, etc. I make no excuses. So yeah. . . a farewell to Rani per audience demand.
“What - the hell - are you?” Rani panted through the red haze of agony that consumed his senses. His breathing echoed harshly in his ears, a grating rasp that betrayed his exhaustion. The bibliophile gripped the knife’s handle with pained determination. He gritted his teeth bracingly and wrenched the blade free of his torso with a snarl and nearly stumbled under the avalanche of pain that rushed in to fill the gap left by the bloody weapon.
The owner of the weapon simply smiled in condescending reply and dealt the fallen hero a savage backhand blow across the right side of his face. Rani collapsed under the force of the blow, slipping on his own blood and crashing to the marble floor. The occupants of the palace watched the display with excited fascination, roaring with merciless glee when the foe in the silver business suit and antiquated bowler hat casually dropped his booted heel down upon Rani’s pale features.
“I am the end of your meddling.” The man answered, his tone as emotionless and cruel as the cold bite of steel.
“You and what army?” The bravado of Rani’s defiance was somewhat hindered by the blood that bubbled forth from his mouth in a violent froth as he attempted to rise to face his glacial opponent.
“Pride goeth before destruction.” Quoth the mysterious enemy, pausing to consult the platinum pocket watch chained to his ornate jacket. He nodded at the time contained within and ended the attempt with an effortless second kick to the side of the shapeshifter’s knee.
“Annoying clichés come before the time displaced steam punk gets his ass kicked for being in the wrong book at the wrong time.” Rani countered with a grimace as he clutched the injured leg, making no attempt to hide the fact that he was stalling. If he could just keep the flamboyantly dressed warrior for a few more moments, the others would have time to seal off the realm of the dragons’ shame. “Quoting the bible and dressing like a monochrome Dr. Who: someone must be writing about the Puritan apocalypse.”
The silver clad gentleman frowned in polite confusion at Rani’s babbling, tilting his head slightly as if to consider the words. Clarify returned to his dark gaze and he shrugged lightly before drawing a musket from his coat and taking deliberate aim between Rani’s eyes.
“You won’t get the last word this time, I’m afraid.” With that proclamation, the interloper glanced down the sight and pulled the trigger with an inanimate lack of regard. True to his prophecy, the sapphire vibrancy abandoned Rani’s gaze before he could utter a response.