[The thing, weirdly, reminds Bomberman of a children's toy he once saw on a holiday shopping trip during his primary school days, a concoction of colorful wooden wheels and plush cuboid segments representing different animals, some with yarn or fake fur accents. It's really a stretch of the imagination to link the two, truth be told. But with this thing bringing its awful demon cooties Bomberman's way, turning up the chaos heat in this laboratory kitchen, it seems his mind can't help but grasp for anything resembling normalcy to defend itself.
And then, as if in vengeful rebound, his mind also tosses up a memory like a lifeline:
He faced down the god of demons by himself and won.
...well, he survived, at any rate. And certainly he had a little divine help. (And maybe passive emotional support from a scared floppy-eared creampuff.) But that's close enough to winning in a situation that absurdly dire.
With his back pressed against the wall, Bomberman flexes the fingers of his right hand (his throwing hand; preferred one, at least) as he listens for the movements of the mystery creature. It's definitely on his level, in this closed room. But...it doesn't sound like it's moving around much. The clattering seems a little muted, as if in some far corner.
In other words: did it get stuck somewhere, somehow?]
If you're done with the lower levels, take over R&D for me. [He'll send over what he's got already to minimize redundancy.] I'll handle this thing.
[Sooooo that's a "no" to "Will Bomberman let this be someone else's problem?" Not that it could ever be answered any other way.
(In Bomberman's defense, he's the only one here with actual demon experience, however limited it may be.)]
no subject
And then, as if in vengeful rebound, his mind also tosses up a memory like a lifeline:
He faced down the god of demons by himself and won.
...well, he survived, at any rate. And certainly he had a little divine help. (And maybe passive emotional support from a scared floppy-eared creampuff.) But that's close enough to winning in a situation that absurdly dire.
With his back pressed against the wall, Bomberman flexes the fingers of his right hand (his throwing hand; preferred one, at least) as he listens for the movements of the mystery creature. It's definitely on his level, in this closed room. But...it doesn't sound like it's moving around much. The clattering seems a little muted, as if in some far corner.
In other words: did it get stuck somewhere, somehow?]
If you're done with the lower levels, take over R&D for me. [He'll send over what he's got already to minimize redundancy.] I'll handle this thing.
[Sooooo that's a "no" to "Will Bomberman let this be someone else's problem?" Not that it could ever be answered any other way.
(In Bomberman's defense, he's the only one here with actual demon experience, however limited it may be.)]