[ The ball hits him in the shoulder, and it hurts. Of course it hurts. He's pretty much human right now, with no accelerated healing or super-fast reflexes. In his true form he could catch a bullet in his teeth. Now the best he can do is take the hit without flinching and deal with the rapidly forming bruise. ]
That's not very nice of you, Eddie. Hasn't my dear Roland taught you manners?
[ Roland may object to thinking of Flagg as his Man in Black, but Flagg has no such hesitations and Roland is his Gunslinger.
He bends down to pick up the ball, examining it for a moment. Leather, stuffed with something like wool. He can see a bit of it poking through a fraying seam and he brings it to his mouth, biting down on it as if it were an apple.
Dry, old leather that's been kicked around by the feet of endless prisoners tastes rancid in his mouth and yet he can't help but flick his tongue against it as he pinches it between his teeth. Flesh is flesh. Teeth on one side and fingers on the other, he tears the shabby ball in two, tightly packed wool spilling out like a blooming flower as he lets it fall to the floor. Now it can't be used against him anymore, too bad about ruining the fun anyone could have with it. ]
for eddie;
[ The ball hits him in the shoulder, and it hurts. Of course it hurts. He's pretty much human right now, with no accelerated healing or super-fast reflexes. In his true form he could catch a bullet in his teeth. Now the best he can do is take the hit without flinching and deal with the rapidly forming bruise. ]
That's not very nice of you, Eddie. Hasn't my dear Roland taught you manners?
[ Roland may object to thinking of Flagg as his Man in Black, but Flagg has no such hesitations and Roland is his Gunslinger.
He bends down to pick up the ball, examining it for a moment. Leather, stuffed with something like wool. He can see a bit of it poking through a fraying seam and he brings it to his mouth, biting down on it as if it were an apple.
Dry, old leather that's been kicked around by the feet of endless prisoners tastes rancid in his mouth and yet he can't help but flick his tongue against it as he pinches it between his teeth. Flesh is flesh. Teeth on one side and fingers on the other, he tears the shabby ball in two, tightly packed wool spilling out like a blooming flower as he lets it fall to the floor. Now it can't be used against him anymore, too bad about ruining the fun anyone could have with it. ]