[He...is, actually. One hundred percent. Damien is always ready and willing to up his battle game. He's mainly a fistfighter - sort of like pseudo boxing or whatever the hell you'd call it, but that shit actually had skill to it. Precision, practice, and power. It was super dope, and anything that can break someone's spine with one kick is something he wants to learn. And if there are people out there with better skills to teach him? Hot damn, he's gonna seek those asshole out.
First thing's first, though. They clear this wild obstacle course/maze and he can take her out and ask all about her sick as shit mafia family. Because that's...sort of what he's imagined. Yeah.
Keeping an eye out for the girl, Damien sidesteps one of the dogs as it lunges for him, balling his fist and using his free arm to give momentum and force to an elbow right into the creature's skull. He doesn't hear the satisfying crack of bone, but the gentle pop of its jaw dislocating is reward enough. Not down, not out, but handicapped at the least.]
HEY IF WE KEEP ONE ALIVE, YOU THINK IT'D LET ME MOUNT IT?! I need a sick new ride for Prom... [And let's be real here, the only hell hounds in Hell are the worst. Ugh. They don't even bite or spit acid... Just shit sulfur and brimstone and bark a lot. Booooring.]
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[He...is, actually. One hundred percent. Damien is always ready and willing to up his battle game. He's mainly a fistfighter - sort of like pseudo boxing or whatever the hell you'd call it, but that shit actually had skill to it. Precision, practice, and power. It was super dope, and anything that can break someone's spine with one kick is something he wants to learn. And if there are people out there with better skills to teach him? Hot damn, he's gonna seek those asshole out.
First thing's first, though. They clear this wild obstacle course/maze and he can take her out and ask all about her sick as shit mafia family. Because that's...sort of what he's imagined. Yeah.
Keeping an eye out for the girl, Damien sidesteps one of the dogs as it lunges for him, balling his fist and using his free arm to give momentum and force to an elbow right into the creature's skull. He doesn't hear the satisfying crack of bone, but the gentle pop of its jaw dislocating is reward enough. Not down, not out, but handicapped at the least.]
HEY IF WE KEEP ONE ALIVE, YOU THINK IT'D LET ME MOUNT IT?! I need a sick new ride for Prom... [And let's be real here, the only hell hounds in Hell are the worst. Ugh. They don't even bite or spit acid... Just shit sulfur and brimstone and bark a lot. Booooring.]