It takes Draven a worrying amount of time to figure out what to say. "No. But dying's a good start."
The flailing, choking, lucid part of him finds gladness even here - that he no longer sweats, that he has no blood to burn...maybe the nausea and physical weakness compound, then. It'd explain the world twisting and its new dress of varying yellows, at any rate. Alas, video humiliation evaded, Davesprite may need to rely on imagination and easily-wowed folk to preserve the exploit untaken.
The yanking's unexpected. Draven stumbles back, draws his broadsword, seeing only bright yellow blurs that shine white, but the blade weighs his hands like chains and he faces Davesprite.
"Will it be your life as well, you who denies me Heaven?"
Fun. Yep. The last cyclist pauses some twenty feet away, because he's pretty sure the zombies were supposed to rock out on Friday and what neat move did that other guy do? But he doesn't stay long - he has an unrepeatable soul-breaking underdog comeuppance to enact.
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The flailing, choking, lucid part of him finds gladness even here - that he no longer sweats, that he has no blood to burn...maybe the nausea and physical weakness compound, then. It'd explain the world twisting and its new dress of varying yellows, at any rate. Alas, video humiliation evaded, Davesprite may need to rely on imagination and easily-wowed folk to preserve the exploit untaken.
The yanking's unexpected. Draven stumbles back, draws his broadsword, seeing only bright yellow blurs that shine white, but the blade weighs his hands like chains and he faces Davesprite.
"Will it be your life as well, you who denies me Heaven?"
Fun. Yep. The last cyclist pauses some twenty feet away, because he's pretty sure the zombies were supposed to rock out on Friday and what neat move did that other guy do? But he doesn't stay long - he has an unrepeatable soul-breaking underdog comeuppance to enact.