"A.. modic-" [i]Pandora began to scream as the tentacle was burnt. She withdrew it back and escaped the flamethrower, smothering the ashes and studying the burns. She groaned in fury, slamming it down.[/i] "Just my fuсking luck, swinging towards a.. fuсk it," [i]The biomass whоre would mutter, crushing the wound and watching it scorch and smoke, the disgusting smell of burnt flesh in the air. She attempted to shrug off the pain, staring at Sam intensely.[/i] "If strength isn't everything, then I'm sure that you're willing to throw away that pretty sword for "ideologies", hmm?" [i]Pandora would begin yet another approach, though for what reason unknown. She seemed as pissy as ever, really.[/i]