“what, you got a date with the fuckin xerox machine?”
the thing of much goo and many teeth shlicks across the floor, toward pash at a fast tick. too fast - yeeeuw - so she has to jump out the way. that blow-by air has top notes of rust and rotted matter, and the fella is gearing back up to snarling.
mid-beatdown back talk doesn’t have that much zest on it; she’s so acquainted with the fact that she’ll be getting the fat end of the wedge with somebody like nanami that it bores her. gojo can talk his shit, whatever, but she doesn’t get the hype vis à vis mr. fuckin kento doll.
his working for GOOP has nothing to do with it. thank you. but it sure don’t help.
pash is now the middleman between creature and cranky nanami. she allows it to tap the back foot as she plants hers, envisioning them both in red dirt. one last toro, toro before -
flintlock, smokeshow, BOOM-CRACKLE. pash takes the thing out as it charges at her, cutting right through its middle. she brought a stout-snouted toy to play with, a custom charged blunderbuss of all things, and it was really a 50-50 shot that it wouldn’t blow her right arm clean off. check it out! it didn’t!
so all nanami has to worry about is the explosion of innards they’re both now covered in. weapons like that only do well at close range.
“keep an eye on this a sec,” she slides the gun across the floor to him, “this won’t take long.”
the scatter makes what is left of the cursed corpse sizzle. we can thank roscoe gordon for this, a powder keg concoction imbued with spellbound properties, fit into rounds that were designed to kill a thing once and dead it twice over. again, very experimental practice mostly fuelled by pash flying by her buns and ammo. and it had luckily resulted in nothing but a yucky mess and no bad reactions.
i mean, “not to be a fuckin know-it-all, i’m really not, but you might wanna keep an eye on your skin if any of that shit got on ya. just, y’know, to err on the side of caution.”
pash strides over to the remains. she yanks her sleeve up and begins to dig around in the slimy stomach area where the blast had cut. her ears ring deafeningly. “c’man, you bastard.”
