[This is...exciting? Is that the feeling Guzma has inside of him? I mean, it's either that, the adrenaline, or the feverish thrum of his heartbeat pumping in time to the music. He still isn't sure this is entirely real either - I mean, who would believe him if he said he woke up on a deserted island, got attacked by a stranger in a gas mask playing the sickest beats ever and his 3000 Alolan Grimer, then tag-teamed a battle with a half-human spider lady/creature/thing?
Like, bro, homes. Buddy.
That's whack.
But on 'go, Guzma's moving, charging through the slimes and-- oh, of course, he's still under the musical spell. I mean, there's really no other explanation for that ballet-like midair split as he hopped over a wayward slime so Ariados could attack it like instructed. It's a crescendo of glorping screeches and splattering mixed to the sound of his heart racing. Each step feels calculated, and Guzma's got his eye on the prize, rears his fist back and--
And the Boogieman howls a cry that sounds like a fanfare of broken trumpets as the man's fist collides square with the monstrous demon's masked face. It's equal parts pain for both parties involved - that mask cuts into Guzma's fist, slicing up his knuckles as parts of it bend and crack from the force of his hit, but...hey, he's had worse. Staggering, the Boogieman rears back and hisses with a string of ungodly violin strings and the slimes seem to melt into the ground, or slither back into the tides, and he, too, seems to rush away into the forest like a shadow - presumably to lick his wounds.]
YEAH, BOY, HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW?! GET WRECKED, BEETHOVEN! [And in true Team Skull fashion - because old habit never really die - Guzma throws a few wild hand motions after the creeper, and sinks into a squat to hug his pokemon when it comes scurrying over.] Nice job, sweetheart, you were awesome.
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Like, bro, homes. Buddy.
That's whack.
But on 'go, Guzma's moving, charging through the slimes and-- oh, of course, he's still under the musical spell. I mean, there's really no other explanation for that ballet-like midair split as he hopped over a wayward slime so Ariados could attack it like instructed. It's a crescendo of glorping screeches and splattering mixed to the sound of his heart racing. Each step feels calculated, and Guzma's got his eye on the prize, rears his fist back and--
And the Boogieman howls a cry that sounds like a fanfare of broken trumpets as the man's fist collides square with the monstrous demon's masked face. It's equal parts pain for both parties involved - that mask cuts into Guzma's fist, slicing up his knuckles as parts of it bend and crack from the force of his hit, but...hey, he's had worse. Staggering, the Boogieman rears back and hisses with a string of ungodly violin strings and the slimes seem to melt into the ground, or slither back into the tides, and he, too, seems to rush away into the forest like a shadow - presumably to lick his wounds.]
YEAH, BOY, HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW?! GET WRECKED, BEETHOVEN! [And in true Team Skull fashion - because old habit never really die - Guzma throws a few wild hand motions after the creeper, and sinks into a squat to hug his pokemon when it comes scurrying over.] Nice job, sweetheart, you were awesome.