( The demon doesn't attempt to move out of the way of the punch — not quite knowing to. He's certainly been struck before, more than once, actually.... but physical combat isn't something he's particular accustomed to. He can't quite remember his existence before Peter, but something inside of him knows it was soft and quiet and unassuming; a child. And once, before that — a great king. Not one to engage in combat himself, but one to lead and command legions of spirits to do the fighting.
...Which is to say that he just stands there, and the force of the man's punch is full. It staggers his vessel's body, makes it dizzy. The demon's hands fly to his face with a sharp whine; he doesn't quite react to physical pain as much as a human might, but the attack still upsets him. Blood creeps out of Peter's nose, already slightly crooked due to having been broken once before.
The man is a threat, a huge, huge, threat. He could strike Luna like this, next... which is something Paimon will not allow. A fresh growl ripples in the demon's throat, staved only for those few seconds Luna touches his face (Paimon freezing, unmoving, stopped in his tracks) before her hand lowers and it returns again. And with that growl, he's moving forwards—
—only to be stopped by that pressure to his shoulder. Obediently the demon waits, but it's with every ounce of his willpower, teeth bared like a wolf's, eyes wholly black and murderous. The very energy around him tightens; the air itself seems almost to buzz with a grating static.
She's broken some of the man's bones, tells the man he can choose his punishment, but Paimon's barely hearing it due to the white-hot anger searing in and from himself. He wants to rip, to tear, to claw the man's eyes and tongue out before he can come near his witch and strike her this way. And while he won't disobey her.... he's definitely straining, twitching, seemingly seconds away from losing control of himself. He's making sounds, ragged, wheezing; he's salivating. The tether's about to snap. )
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...Which is to say that he just stands there, and the force of the man's punch is full. It staggers his vessel's body, makes it dizzy. The demon's hands fly to his face with a sharp whine; he doesn't quite react to physical pain as much as a human might, but the attack still upsets him. Blood creeps out of Peter's nose, already slightly crooked due to having been broken once before.
The man is a threat, a huge, huge, threat. He could strike Luna like this, next... which is something Paimon will not allow. A fresh growl ripples in the demon's throat, staved only for those few seconds Luna touches his face (Paimon freezing, unmoving, stopped in his tracks) before her hand lowers and it returns again. And with that growl, he's moving forwards—
—only to be stopped by that pressure to his shoulder. Obediently the demon waits, but it's with every ounce of his willpower, teeth bared like a wolf's, eyes wholly black and murderous. The very energy around him tightens; the air itself seems almost to buzz with a grating static.
She's broken some of the man's bones, tells the man he can choose his punishment, but Paimon's barely hearing it due to the white-hot anger searing in and from himself. He wants to rip, to tear, to claw the man's eyes and tongue out before he can come near his witch and strike her this way. And while he won't disobey her.... he's definitely straining, twitching, seemingly seconds away from losing control of himself. He's making sounds, ragged, wheezing; he's salivating. The tether's about to snap. )