Snippet #2768330

Demor's Draconian slit of a pupil focused hard on Kathryn, a predatory glare in his emerald green irises as she threatened him, before flinching as she brought the butt of the pistol against his cheek, stunning him ever so slightly, allowing them to pick him up and carry him off before he regained full consciousness again, and groaned in discontent.

"Can I at least put on some pants?" he said before being secured to the chair, his tail proving either to be very difficult to tie down, or eluding capture all together, in which case, it would almost immediately begin trying to untie any knots that secured Demor to the chair. "Guess not..." he said as Kathryn finished tying him up, idly flexing an arm against the rope to see how tight it was. Typically, it was tight enough to prevent him from moving.

Demor looked to the pouch of torture tools, and then looked at device that Kathryn was setting up, tilting his head. "All of this to ask questions?" his eyes trailed to Kathryn proper, looking her up and down slowly before returning his gaze to Michael. "You could have just asked me over a nice dinner." he said, a cocky smirk on his face.