[ God, for his part, has no idea what just happened.
He is standing at the desk with a leatherbound journal in his hand; Viktor is sitting; this throws him as badly as the punch. For the barest moment he thinks this is some power of Viktor's, some capacity to puppet him, and the anger crystallizes in his face— ]
Looping.
[ Of course it's the Pthumerians. The anger is pressed down deep, and smolders in his eyes like a banked fire as he turns back to his guest. ]
You've played this one before?
[ They can definitely have a conversation about this, and not the genuinely impressive decision to punch God. This is fine. ]
no subject
He is standing at the desk with a leatherbound journal in his hand; Viktor is sitting; this throws him as badly as the punch. For the barest moment he thinks this is some power of Viktor's, some capacity to puppet him, and the anger crystallizes in his face— ]
Looping.
[ Of course it's the Pthumerians. The anger is pressed down deep, and smolders in his eyes like a banked fire as he turns back to his guest. ]
You've played this one before?
[ They can definitely have a conversation about this, and not the genuinely impressive decision to punch God. This is fine. ]