The first moment after the chains wrap around him is debilitating. His experience with magic in general is limited; with magic like this? Non-existent. The chains seem to sear against his skin even though they aren't actually touching his skin, and his vision greys out as the world tilts dizzyingly around him.
If the demon was expecting him to succumb without a fight to its life-draining magic, though, it's badly misguided. This is the man who walked half the length of a train car on a badly broken leg; the man who pushed his composite self to the limits of biofeedback failsafes and beyond to save lives in his exo; the man who bent to the yoke of a profoundly abusive woman but never-- quite-- broke.
It will take more than a little life-eating magic to take the life out of this man.
Even as Trunks appears behind him with all the ballistic ferocity of a meteor fallen to Earth, Devero lifts his head and stares down the demon at the end of his chains. He gropes at his hip and finds one last weapon remaining, the baton he'd holstered to take out the gun earlier. With that hand, he pulls it free and flicks it into full extension; the other he wraps around the chains between himself and the demon. He turns on his blessed weapon, and then he yanks.
The demon stumbles forward, surprised, and takes about 20,000 volts of holy electricity right in the throat.
He clings to the baton as he feels hands on him, only turning it off when he realizes that these are the familiar hands of a friend. It takes all the strength he has left to keep his hold on the weapon as Trunks launches them; otherwise, he's dead weight in the younger man's arms.
no subject
If the demon was expecting him to succumb without a fight to its life-draining magic, though, it's badly misguided. This is the man who walked half the length of a train car on a badly broken leg; the man who pushed his composite self to the limits of biofeedback failsafes and beyond to save lives in his exo; the man who bent to the yoke of a profoundly abusive woman but never-- quite-- broke.
It will take more than a little life-eating magic to take the life out of this man.
Even as Trunks appears behind him with all the ballistic ferocity of a meteor fallen to Earth, Devero lifts his head and stares down the demon at the end of his chains. He gropes at his hip and finds one last weapon remaining, the baton he'd holstered to take out the gun earlier. With that hand, he pulls it free and flicks it into full extension; the other he wraps around the chains between himself and the demon. He turns on his blessed weapon, and then he yanks.
The demon stumbles forward, surprised, and takes about 20,000 volts of holy electricity right in the throat.
He clings to the baton as he feels hands on him, only turning it off when he realizes that these are the familiar hands of a friend. It takes all the strength he has left to keep his hold on the weapon as Trunks launches them; otherwise, he's dead weight in the younger man's arms.