A wide smirk grew upon the demon's face, his eyes moved from side to side, a did his own head; causing his hair to justle about lightly. His expression could just be described as mischievous, holding an air of cockiness around his being. Even watching the Troll before him made the demon snicker softly. Such a large creature, seemingly off-put by one much smaller than him. For a few moments, he didn't even speak, his bright blue eyes bore into the Troll's own; almost if searching his very being.
"What's the matter? Afraid I've got some army of demon here with me? Waiting to pop from the shadows and take you all down?" Zagan let out a deep, rumbling chuckle in his chest, his hand suddenly grabbing Khara by his chin. It wasn't rough, but enough to get a solid grip upon his face.
"Why, in the name of the gods, would a party of demons follow one? I assure you they've much better things to do than that, my dear man~" he purred now, face inching closer, "I'm sure you aren't dense enough to not know of the war between us demons, and those little delicate angels~ I could care less for it, a waste of time and energy. Tossing ranks of demons at angels, just to watch members of each die~"
Slowly his opposite hand crept along the man's arm, the one where his hand was under his cloak; claws quickly digging into the skin of his hand. "Why take the time and hurt me? Surely if I even tried something I'd be dead in minutes, seconds if the timing is right as well," he purred once again, his hand slowly leaving the man's own now, "sadly there won't be blood spilled from me, if that's what you wish. I don't have a drop of that in my entire body~"
Zagan's clawed hand was now rested over his own chest, claws pointed directly at the grey flesh as he slowly dragged them across. He was cutting himself in show, watching as nothing but a thick, black mist seemed to pour from the wounds themselves. It twisted and floated down and down until it practically vanished upon touching the ground, but his smirk only stayed; more toothy as he bared his fangs.
"What's the matter? Afraid I've got some army of demon here with me? Waiting to pop from the shadows and take you all down?" Zagan let out a deep, rumbling chuckle in his chest, his hand suddenly grabbing Khara by his chin. It wasn't rough, but enough to get a solid grip upon his face.
"Why, in the name of the gods, would a party of demons follow one? I assure you they've much better things to do than that, my dear man~" he purred now, face inching closer, "I'm sure you aren't dense enough to not know of the war between us demons, and those little delicate angels~ I could care less for it, a waste of time and energy. Tossing ranks of demons at angels, just to watch members of each die~"
Slowly his opposite hand crept along the man's arm, the one where his hand was under his cloak; claws quickly digging into the skin of his hand. "Why take the time and hurt me? Surely if I even tried something I'd be dead in minutes, seconds if the timing is right as well," he purred once again, his hand slowly leaving the man's own now, "sadly there won't be blood spilled from me, if that's what you wish. I don't have a drop of that in my entire body~"
Zagan's clawed hand was now rested over his own chest, claws pointed directly at the grey flesh as he slowly dragged them across. He was cutting himself in show, watching as nothing but a thick, black mist seemed to pour from the wounds themselves. It twisted and floated down and down until it practically vanished upon touching the ground, but his smirk only stayed; more toothy as he bared his fangs.
