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[Anyone who knows even a little bit about the Táin Bó Cuailnge saga might know what happened to Cú Chulainn when he found the boy-troop training at Emain Macha slaughtered. He takes on a horrifying ríastrad type form, more commonly known as 'warp spasm'...and like the Hulk, he becomes a giant, hideous, rage beast. Emphasis on the hideous.
This time there's no one to send an army of bare chested women at him or to dunk him in barrels of cold water (which his rage would turn into boiling water). Nope, this time he had to self sooth.
Which brings us to the ridiculous state that he's in right now.
His body is half in/half out of a shallow creek in some kind of wooded area...or it might have been a wooded area once upon a time ago. Right now it looks like a giant came galumphing through and pulled up most of the surrounding tress by their roots as if they were nothing more than weeds. The surrounding vegetation had seen its fair share of better days as well.
Of course tearing up the forest isn't the only method for self soothing that he's tried, just take a gander at the barrels, the bottle, the jars, and beakers lying around and try not to think too hard about where all of that substance is right now. London will be awakening shortly to an alcohol ransack, but that's okay because Cú Chulainn is safely out of the city.
In fact, he's just plain out, which is why he's covered in muck, his face is planted in the grass, and a small family of hedgehogs are attempting nest in his hair for the day. Weather he finally managed to wear himself out or if he really was able to consume enough toxins, it might be a mystery as to how he finally managed to calm down.]
This time there's no one to send an army of bare chested women at him or to dunk him in barrels of cold water (which his rage would turn into boiling water). Nope, this time he had to self sooth.
Which brings us to the ridiculous state that he's in right now.
His body is half in/half out of a shallow creek in some kind of wooded area...or it might have been a wooded area once upon a time ago. Right now it looks like a giant came galumphing through and pulled up most of the surrounding tress by their roots as if they were nothing more than weeds. The surrounding vegetation had seen its fair share of better days as well.
Of course tearing up the forest isn't the only method for self soothing that he's tried, just take a gander at the barrels, the bottle, the jars, and beakers lying around and try not to think too hard about where all of that substance is right now. London will be awakening shortly to an alcohol ransack, but that's okay because Cú Chulainn is safely out of the city.
In fact, he's just plain out, which is why he's covered in muck, his face is planted in the grass, and a small family of hedgehogs are attempting nest in his hair for the day. Weather he finally managed to wear himself out or if he really was able to consume enough toxins, it might be a mystery as to how he finally managed to calm down.]
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