[Well. His shades may or may not have been knocked off his face, but whether they are broken or not is a mystery to be resolved in the next tag. He successfully slashes at the tentacle, cutting through the mess of slime and flesh and whatever the hell its made of. The tendril retreats, a hiss audible to Dave's ears, and then it disappears under the machines.
He'll be given exactly enough time to get back on his feet before a mass of tentacles, eyes and mouths (plural) shoots out from where the tendril disappeared and tackles him. The thing packs a wallop, its size roughly the height of Dave's torso, and if he's not careful — he might end up getting slammed into one of the machines.
Or even worse, knocked headfirst into the fusebox.]
no subject
He'll be given exactly enough time to get back on his feet before a mass of tentacles, eyes and mouths (plural) shoots out from where the tendril disappeared and tackles him. The thing packs a wallop, its size roughly the height of Dave's torso, and if he's not careful — he might end up getting slammed into one of the machines.
Or even worse, knocked headfirst into the fusebox.]