The good doctor's eyehole narrows in response to the tiny, gentle sensation pressing against his arm, and he instinctively uses his free hand to try and assist Mini in their attempts to return to his shoulder, still nodding at Ginko in acknowledgement as the half-troll continues to talk. But as it turns out, Mini has as bit more of a distinct shape than Faust's hand finds, and his curiosity demands he turn and gaze at it proper and oh GOOD GRIEF WHAT IS THAT WHY IS IT CONSTRICTING HIM OH-
"-!!! WHAT THE-?!?!?!"
Faust's eyeball bounces out from his eyehole with force that could rival that of a bullet, and in one flurry of almost liquid-like motions, his cup is swapped out for the scalpel from earlier, and he makes a clean swing for the vines! And yet, inexplicably, the scalpel pings off of the aggressive fauna as if it's made of titanium, sending the implement hurtling to the floor on the opposite side of the room...! Naturally, the good doctor makes his thoughts known on the matter:
"-WH-WH, HOW...?!"
At his wits end, he slams the devils horns into the offending tendril and surges as much ki as he can muster into it, creating a very audible sizzling noise that echoes throughout the room, akin to sausages upon a heated grill. Subconsciously, Faust pleads with whatever deities that will hear him: Please let this work...!
no subject
"-!!! WHAT THE-?!?!?!"
Faust's eyeball bounces out from his eyehole with force that could rival that of a bullet, and in one flurry of almost liquid-like motions, his cup is swapped out for the scalpel from earlier, and he makes a clean swing for the vines! And yet, inexplicably, the scalpel pings off of the aggressive fauna as if it's made of titanium, sending the implement hurtling to the floor on the opposite side of the room...!
Naturally, the good doctor makes his thoughts known on the matter:
"-WH-WH, HOW...?!"
At his wits end, he slams the devils horns into the offending tendril and surges as much ki as he can muster into it, creating a very audible sizzling noise that echoes throughout the room, akin to sausages upon a heated grill. Subconsciously, Faust pleads with whatever deities that will hear him: Please let this work...!