[Stocke jerks at the retort of the gun, already knowing he's too late to interfere - his reaction time isn't superhuman, and those slugs can fly across the room in less time than it takes him to blink. Less time than it takes him to curl the claws on one hand together, as if grasping at something that's no longer there. An angry static surges up his spine, through his throat, mouth or not - he slams it to a halt before it spills out, whether as a quiet curse or an inhuman hiss. It struggles there as the three stand around, staring, the oldest man almost mocking; if there's anything Stocke's learned over the past week, it's that even if something like that's enough to kill Greed, he'll probably be back. This peninsula's strange like that. And yet -]
[He's almost surprised at the amount of relief he feels when the demon's red flares back up, but he sets that aside; more importantly, that shouldn't happen again. The kid's grip is still slippery; it's hardly any work at all to yank the shotgun out of his fingers telekinetically, send it flying off towards the far wall. It doesn't quite reach, hitting the floor and spinning past glittering shards of glass before it slides to a halt. Meanwhile, Stocke hasn't been paying it any mind since the first tug and fling; before the kid's even had any chance to yelp, the shade's snapping that same mental thread towards the leader's rifle.]
[This he doesn't try to pull away - no guarantees on how tightly the man's holding, he might have a chance to shoot. If Stocke knew anything about the innards of firearms, he'd have messed with them; as it is, at least he knows what the trigger's for. He jams it, holding it tightly in place; if the third man's got something to shoot, Stocke gives it the same treatment, spooling out another metaphorical line.]
[Telekinesis isn't foolproof - there's a limit to how much Stocke can carry with it. But counteracting the efforts of a finger, two? That's nothing. If the rifle-holder tries to shoot, the trigger shouldn't budge. To make it even better - unless these natives are experts on the types of monsters Ryslig holds, there's nothing to say that Greed didn't do all that. No evidence of a second monster pulling any strings.]
[Stocke's tendrils quiver tensely, invisible in the ceiling's darkness. He wants to do more, but Greed still hasn't motioned him forward. There's a difference between taking initiative and suddenly acting like he can't trust the demon to handle this, and he's not crossing it.]
no subject
[He's almost surprised at the amount of relief he feels when the demon's red flares back up, but he sets that aside; more importantly, that shouldn't happen again. The kid's grip is still slippery; it's hardly any work at all to yank the shotgun out of his fingers telekinetically, send it flying off towards the far wall. It doesn't quite reach, hitting the floor and spinning past glittering shards of glass before it slides to a halt. Meanwhile, Stocke hasn't been paying it any mind since the first tug and fling; before the kid's even had any chance to yelp, the shade's snapping that same mental thread towards the leader's rifle.]
[This he doesn't try to pull away - no guarantees on how tightly the man's holding, he might have a chance to shoot. If Stocke knew anything about the innards of firearms, he'd have messed with them; as it is, at least he knows what the trigger's for. He jams it, holding it tightly in place; if the third man's got something to shoot, Stocke gives it the same treatment, spooling out another metaphorical line.]
[Telekinesis isn't foolproof - there's a limit to how much Stocke can carry with it. But counteracting the efforts of a finger, two? That's nothing. If the rifle-holder tries to shoot, the trigger shouldn't budge. To make it even better - unless these natives are experts on the types of monsters Ryslig holds, there's nothing to say that Greed didn't do all that. No evidence of a second monster pulling any strings.]
[Stocke's tendrils quiver tensely, invisible in the ceiling's darkness. He wants to do more, but Greed still hasn't motioned him forward. There's a difference between taking initiative and suddenly acting like he can't trust the demon to handle this, and he's not crossing it.]
[Your move, boss.]