The shot went wide, pierced a cheeseburger platter two tables away rather than the beating heart of her quarry. The man didn't even blink, didn't even look up at the waitress who stopped by to return his credit card.
Miles above, Cupid nocked another arrow, grumbling about crosswinds.
A golden shaft sprouted in a wall decoration of the United States cobbled together out of different licence plates. Her last-chance shot missed the heart by only a few feet this time. Meanwhile, he was too preoccupied with trying to figure out what 15% of $11.74 was, and could only manage a muffled thanks to the waitress.
Cupid threw down her golden recurve bow in disgust and yelled, as if her target could possibly hear her. "A little help? She was flirting with you and you just hid behind your menu like it was a castle wall. Just fucking talk to her, you big, stupid, dumb, stupid idiot!"
His pathetic response was as hopeless as her marksmanship. She had to hold the bow further and further away from her body lest the string rasp against her slowly increasing bust. It was an awkward position that made accurate shots impossible. Cupid cradled her precious breasts in her arms, kissed their upper slopes, cooed "It's not your fault, my sweets, it's all because of that." She aimed a venom-laden glance at the bow still lying on a nearby cloud.
The other gods called it iconic, but Cupid just saw the bow as a corny anachronism. If Mercury did all his messaging over his smartphone, why was she saddled with a two-thousand-year-old piece of military hardware? She needed something flashy, new, something with stopping power, preferably something with a high rate of fire considering there was almost seven billion people teeming in the world below.
Cupid lazily scratched some blueprints into a cloud with the head of one of her golden arrows. Ooh, that would do nicely. Now to get it fabricated. She plucked her phone from her cleavage and rang Vulcan.
The facial expression of sadistic, maniacal glee definitely makes it. Glad to see you're still alive. I'll buy you a drink if we're ever able to identify each other IRL and in the same general vicinity.
Just Think what she could do in a Viking!!! (it a plane from starcraft 2 that turns into a mech) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5nqK-19Ncs http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwPLRo1FBns
Wait, what? No "welcome back Woot" or "We missed you Woot, thanks for the new picture"? Just loads of TF2 jokes? I swear you guys only like him for his art...
And once again... Woot makes with the awesome. TF2 jokes aside (everyone beat me to them) this is well worth the wait. A little sexiness, a little humor, and the kind of fun you can only expect from yet another spur-of-the-moment OC by Woot. Kudos to you, good sir, and you keep doing this for as long as it's fun for you.
Well since no one has said anything besides TF2 jokes, welcome back Woot!! How was the vacation? Is it just me or did Cupid go crazy? She has that weird berserk, maniacal look and her new tool is a handheld machine-gun. Love hurts, but isn't Cupid taking things a wee bit to far?
@LakeHylia & Stacky: No, that's actually a good point, especially after how so many of us bemoaned woot's absence on the last pic. If I may say to woot on a personal level... where the damned blazes have you been, you neglectful little shit? >:[
pretty funny valentine. i just gotta ask though whats the name of your deviant page at deviant art again? i cant find it at all, i was thinking of saving you to my watch list since i like your art a lot.
Had I checked the site earlier, I'd have had a more timely "Welcome Back," but seeing as I did not, Woot! Welcome Back Woot! I missed you and your fantastic works.
... Somethin' really nice about how ya drew her outfit, looks both loose yet shaped up on her. Granted, its only the bottom but such skimpiness works with the badass attitude and that gun... and that expression ^^
Miles above, Cupid nocked another arrow, grumbling about crosswinds.
A golden shaft sprouted in a wall decoration of the United States cobbled together out of different licence plates. Her last-chance shot missed the heart by only a few feet this time. Meanwhile, he was too preoccupied with trying to figure out what 15% of $11.74 was, and could only manage a muffled thanks to the waitress.
Cupid threw down her golden recurve bow in disgust and yelled, as if her target could possibly hear her. "A little help? She was flirting with you and you just hid behind your menu like it was a castle wall. Just fucking talk to her, you big, stupid, dumb, stupid idiot!"
His pathetic response was as hopeless as her marksmanship. She had to hold the bow further and further away from her body lest the string rasp against her slowly increasing bust. It was an awkward position that made accurate shots impossible. Cupid cradled her precious breasts in her arms, kissed their upper slopes, cooed "It's not your fault, my sweets, it's all because of that." She aimed a venom-laden glance at the bow still lying on a nearby cloud.
The other gods called it iconic, but Cupid just saw the bow as a corny anachronism. If Mercury did all his messaging over his smartphone, why was she saddled with a two-thousand-year-old piece of military hardware? She needed something flashy, new, something with stopping power, preferably something with a high rate of fire considering there was almost seven billion people teeming in the world below.
Cupid lazily scratched some blueprints into a cloud with the head of one of her golden arrows. Ooh, that would do nicely. Now to get it fabricated. She plucked her phone from her cleavage and rang Vulcan.
"Hey there, hot stuff. Busy?"