....aaaand now the thing is pressed against his leg like an undead cat, except there is rather too much of it to be a 'cat'.
Right.
Jason wipes at the tiny bit of his face that is quasi-exposed before any of the steaming, stinking gunk on his face can start to freeze to his skin. Because it's the sort of thing he does, he mentally catalogs whether or not this has ever happened to him before.
Drenched in blood? Yes. Many times. Brain meat: only once that he can recall (the less said about what happens when a zombie vomits, the better). Having an entire lupine corpse explode over him, everything from liver to sinews? He thinks that's a new one, but then again, his memory is missing a few decades.
No. If he'd ever been splattered head to toe with the pureed bits of organs, hide, fur, and flesh, he is almost certain that it's a memory Etrigan would want him to keep. So, probably, this is simply a new experience.
The stench is intense; Jason feels distantly nauseous but the cold helps. Already some of the... mess... is congealing. His clothes are a lost cause and then some. Also, his arm hurts.
--and the little abattoir of bones-- the not-so-little abattoir of bones-- is trembling against his leg like a frightened animal.
"I don't believe I can say 'there, there' with a straight face," he informs the entity, after several blank seconds of trying to think of an appropriate response.
no subject
Right.
Jason wipes at the tiny bit of his face that is quasi-exposed before any of the steaming, stinking gunk on his face can start to freeze to his skin. Because it's the sort of thing he does, he mentally catalogs whether or not this has ever happened to him before.
Drenched in blood? Yes. Many times. Brain meat: only once that he can recall (the less said about what happens when a zombie vomits, the better). Having an entire lupine corpse explode over him, everything from liver to sinews? He thinks that's a new one, but then again, his memory is missing a few decades.
No. If he'd ever been splattered head to toe with the pureed bits of organs, hide, fur, and flesh, he is almost certain that it's a memory Etrigan would want him to keep. So, probably, this is simply a new experience.
The stench is intense; Jason feels distantly nauseous but the cold helps. Already some of the... mess... is congealing. His clothes are a lost cause and then some. Also, his arm hurts.
--and the little abattoir of bones-- the not-so-little abattoir of bones-- is trembling against his leg like a frightened animal.
"I don't believe I can say 'there, there' with a straight face," he informs the entity, after several blank seconds of trying to think of an appropriate response.