The quickness with which his punches are dished out slow considerably when reminded of their vast difference in age. The blond had known life for several millennia, hitting his stride as a young if brash god when Norseman began to set sail upon the seas in search of distant lands to plunder. He was ancient compared to this viper tongued whelp, and yet you wouldn’t know it to look at him.
It was further proof of how effective this hellish place was of reducing the misanthropic souls trapped within its boundaries to their truest cast.
“Cease your attempts to slander me, should thou wish to retain the use of thy tongue!” Tone filled with hate, the way he now moved revealed what had just stated unnerved him. It caused the ruthless showering of punches and jabs he started with to slow down in the face of Ky’s scathing laughter, as if realising who was the one at fault here – whilst also generating room for the demon to strike back in retaliation.
Now, hatred he could use. It was one of the few things he learned even before his demonic side manifested itself. That hatred was known by most species – man, god, or otherwise.
Once you knew the correct buttons to push, you could exploit them, and then everything would ultimately fall right into place.
In this case, Ky was relying on his more demonic or otherwise feral urges at every opportunity. Coherent thought was out the window and his focus was on taking every advantage possible. if that meant playing dirty tricks? So be it.
“I’ll do far more than that -” words were cut short as he was bombarded by the punches. If he had real training, he may have been able to do better, but so far… he was just trying to find an opening by taking the punishment as he came.
Then he found it. It was when the assault slowed down just enough that he was able to swipe forward and grip Thor’s chin tightly with his clawed like hand. “You’ll be nothing more than a memory of what you are now, Odinson or maybe,” his eyes narrowed. “You’ll be a corpse that i’ll keep for my… amusement.”