He'd snapped at you a few times online, but you had figured Pheres was all talk: after all, it's easy to play tough when you don't have to back it up. But no, he's bearing his teeth at you and hissing like he's actually going to bite.
Big fucking whoop. His teeth are nubby, with none of the care or polish that he's obviously put into his horns, and those fuckers wouldn't even break flesh. The whole thing is pathetic as hell, and you have to marvel at the display. He's as threatening as a wet baby meowbeast. Are you supposed to be scared?
He jerks his head to try and get free, and you tighten your grip on his horn in response. "Get off of me," he demands, his voice frantic, and the only reason you're not growling is because his pan's still marinating in alcohol. He doesn't know what the fuck he's saying, and -- goddamnit, you're here to prove a fucking point about you and Sipara's quadrants. Maiming him won't help.
Even if you are sorely fucking tempted.
"Quit the noise, brother." It's a good thing you're wearing gloves, or your claws would be digging into his skin. "I'm helping your chump ass." But that only makes him jolt his head away again, making your grip slip onto the cuff proper, and later, you'll reflect that's what saved you from your hand getting completely fucking scorched.
The build-up of psionic aura is abrupt: Pheres has been sparking away steadily this entire time, a tiny-ass blip on the radar of your attention, and you barely notice when it starts to amp up. But then it keeps going until the air is suddenly thick with the glowing sparks, the initial surge bright enough that it's hard to see.
The honey's still in his system. They're directionless: whatever his ability is, because by now you're fucking sure it isn't standard telekinesis, he's not using it. He's just pumping energy into his aura and putting on a lightshow, because although the sparks are rippling across his horns and snapping like bands off into the air, they're not going anywhere.
Except onto you.
They might be dissolving before they can get farther than your hands, but the few that hit you fucking sting, even through the thick leather. The initial surge hits the metal and bounces, but you can still feel the brittle heat of them if it'd hit your skin, you might've actually gotten burned. The sparks after that are too weak to do more than sting, brief taps of heat that die off just as the feeling registers, and you tighten your grip as he loses energy.
Incredulity keeps you quiet through all of this, and when the air clears of light, no one's talking at all: the only sound is the buzzing in the distance, the harsh rasp of Pheres's breath, and the snarl reverberating all the way from your thoracic cavity.
He tried to fucking zap you. That fucking bastard.
"You done yet?" you snap. "Because if you're going to keep that shit up, you're not going to have to worry about the goddamned drones."
Your telekinesis only works at a distance, but Pheres is tiny as fuck: you don't need powers to beat some sense into him, if it comes to that.
[riccin is eighteen AND TERRIBLE]
Big fucking whoop. His teeth are nubby, with none of the care or polish that he's obviously put into his horns, and those fuckers wouldn't even break flesh. The whole thing is pathetic as hell, and you have to marvel at the display. He's as threatening as a wet baby meowbeast. Are you supposed to be scared?
He jerks his head to try and get free, and you tighten your grip on his horn in response. "Get off of me," he demands, his voice frantic, and the only reason you're not growling is because his pan's still marinating in alcohol. He doesn't know what the fuck he's saying, and -- goddamnit, you're here to prove a fucking point about you and Sipara's quadrants. Maiming him won't help.
Even if you are sorely fucking tempted.
"Quit the noise, brother." It's a good thing you're wearing gloves, or your claws would be digging into his skin. "I'm helping your chump ass." But that only makes him jolt his head away again, making your grip slip onto the cuff proper, and later, you'll reflect that's what saved you from your hand getting completely fucking scorched.
The build-up of psionic aura is abrupt: Pheres has been sparking away steadily this entire time, a tiny-ass blip on the radar of your attention, and you barely notice when it starts to amp up. But then it keeps going until the air is suddenly thick with the glowing sparks, the initial surge bright enough that it's hard to see.
The honey's still in his system. They're directionless: whatever his ability is, because by now you're fucking sure it isn't standard telekinesis, he's not using it. He's just pumping energy into his aura and putting on a lightshow, because although the sparks are rippling across his horns and snapping like bands off into the air, they're not going anywhere.
Except onto you.
They might be dissolving before they can get farther than your hands, but the few that hit you fucking sting, even through the thick leather. The initial surge hits the metal and bounces, but you can still feel the brittle heat of them if it'd hit your skin, you might've actually gotten burned. The sparks after that are too weak to do more than sting, brief taps of heat that die off just as the feeling registers, and you tighten your grip as he loses energy.
Incredulity keeps you quiet through all of this, and when the air clears of light, no one's talking at all: the only sound is the buzzing in the distance, the harsh rasp of Pheres's breath, and the snarl reverberating all the way from your thoracic cavity.
He tried to fucking zap you. That fucking bastard.
"You done yet?" you snap. "Because if you're going to keep that shit up, you're not going to have to worry about the goddamned drones."
Your telekinesis only works at a distance, but Pheres is tiny as fuck: you don't need powers to beat some sense into him, if it comes to that.