[ God turns around and the kid punches a butter knife into his ribcage.
For a moment, everything hangs still. John stumbles back with the impact, briefly astonished, and makes a sound like an aborted Whoa; he knocks into the counter, catches his balance there. He looks at Kaworu, then down to the knife sticking out of his side. It's lodged solidly and shifts when he breathes, Darkblood fizzling up through the slit in his plain black shirt. ]
Okay, [ says God, slowly, still with a butter knife sticking out of his side. His brow has pinched in absolute, total confusion. ] This is not a traditional step in baking a crumble.
cw violence but like. ineffective
For a moment, everything hangs still. John stumbles back with the impact, briefly astonished, and makes a sound like an aborted Whoa; he knocks into the counter, catches his balance there. He looks at Kaworu, then down to the knife sticking out of his side. It's lodged solidly and shifts when he breathes, Darkblood fizzling up through the slit in his plain black shirt. ]
Okay, [ says God, slowly, still with a butter knife sticking out of his side. His brow has pinched in absolute, total confusion. ] This is not a traditional step in baking a crumble.