[Throat torn open to expose all the muscle and sinew, flesh surgically sliced apart like an anatomical doll, the flesh of one arm completely in tatters, hanging off the bone as if torn away, Saix drags his claymore behind him as though the weight might be a little too much. Also, he's naked
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Comments 7
Oh come on.
[Well, he's already dead, disemboweled, and nearly headless. What else is there?]
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Suddenly his claymore doesn't seem all that heavy as he picks it up off the floor in one hand and looks ready to attack. There's no mind behind it, and no words but perhaps that is because the only sound his throat can make is the wet bubbling of his breath.
He doesn't recognise BB, but that might not have made any difference as he runs for him, claymore already in mid-swing.]
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There are some parts that even a berserker would rather not have scorched. That requires thinking about it, however, and Saix isn't particularly well known for doing much thinking when he's in a smashy smashy frame of mind.
Like now.
As it is, the claymore swings, and connects with the candle, since it's the nearest thing to him at that point.]
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