Because ow, yeah, that uppercut rams into the belly of a creature not of this world, not of any 'world' depending on how metaphysical you want to get about it, and it gives not a bit in comparison to what it does to Glitch's hand.
Glitch gets his hand into the metaphorical cookie jar before Etrigan's hand closes around his wrist with a grip like iron. He is touching his tablet, but 'touching' does not equate to 'will be able to pull this out', exactly.
(Glitch may not register it in this particular, adrenaline-fueled moment, but.... his fingers brush against something else in the pouch, something small and metallic and detailed. Or perhaps he does notice it?)
The demon's eyes are red, glowing slits through the blisters the chemicals have raised on his already-none-too-pretty face.
"What thief? What nerve!-- what does he deserve? "Perhaps I'll take your head, instead of peek. "Oh genius, observe; life's not graded on curves "And your score, I fear, looks bleak."
no subject
On a scale of 1-10...... we'll say a seven.
Because ow, yeah, that uppercut rams into the belly of a creature not of this world, not of any 'world' depending on how metaphysical you want to get about it, and it gives not a bit in comparison to what it does to Glitch's hand.
Glitch gets his hand into the metaphorical cookie jar before Etrigan's hand closes around his wrist with a grip like iron. He is touching his tablet, but 'touching' does not equate to 'will be able to pull this out', exactly.
(Glitch may not register it in this particular, adrenaline-fueled moment, but.... his fingers brush against something else in the pouch, something small and metallic and detailed. Or perhaps he does notice it?)
The demon's eyes are red, glowing slits through the blisters the chemicals have raised on his already-none-too-pretty face.
"What thief? What nerve!-- what does he deserve?
"Perhaps I'll take your head, instead of peek.
"Oh genius, observe; life's not graded on curves
"And your score, I fear, looks bleak."