[There's a bump as the comm opens transmission - it seems to have been knocked accidentally, as often happens on the boat. But there's no happy chatter or the playful doggie noises that usually issue from Thom's frequency. Instead there's a low, murderous growl
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No expert on canine body language, when Thom approaches, she greets him about as amicably as she ever greets anyone. The goofy puppy is endearing, even to someone like the Major, who is by no stretch of the imagination a pet person.]
Hello, Thom.
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Without a word he rushes the cyborg, clearly intending to savage her.]
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Thom?
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Thom can't weigh more than 20 kilos. Unconcerned, she stands her ground, holding up up one bare arm to stop his rush before he can get at her more delicate (than the rest of her, anyway) eyes.
The Major really doesn't know much about dogs.]
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The teeth are backed by a good few hundred pounds of pressure, which twists back and forth with all the muscle hidden beneath his heavy neck and stocky little body. He's no bull terrier and he's not bred for this, but he doesn't have to be to cause some serious damage.]
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Stop that.
[It has to be the jewels, but there's nothing between Thom's eyes. The short fur of his face wouldn't be thick enough to hide it. She grabs at the scruff of his neck in an attempt to peel the angry dog off her arm before he can do more damage.]
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It might be better to prize his jaws open?
Thom digs in, treating the Major's arm like a really good meaty bone. As his claws seek purchase against her body, a flash of blue peeks out from below his collar. The movement and her tugging on his ruff have exposed the problem.]
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Immense bite strength or not, he has no chance of cracking the alloy "bones" in her forearm, and the worst his dull doggie claws can do is cosmetic damage to her clothing, so she lets him shake and gnaw while she thinks for a second. If she were to brace him and twist, she could tear her arm free, but that would take Thom's jaw with it, and the poor pup's been brain-hacked. None of this is his fault and she doesn't want to hurt him more than she has to.]
Tch.
[It's not the best position for a choke hold, but unless she wants to drag him to the clinic and rummage around one-handed for a sedative while he chews the skin on her arm to ribbons, it's her best choice for putting him under without hurting him ( ... )
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His paws bat at her hand, ineffectively trying to dislodge her from his throat, although he still tries keep biting. Thom does have thumbs, but they're not very coordinated, and it wouldn't make much of a different even if he could form a solid grip.]
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[The change in position shifts his blood pressure. Thom is barely - if stubbornly - mouthing at her arm by the time he's laid on his back.
One more squirm and struggle and then he's out, eyes rolling up and slipping closed mostly closed, a milky crescent of nictating membrane showing under whiskered eyebrows. His tongue hangs limp from between puppy teeth coated in android plasma (or whatever it is that passes for blood).]
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Straddling Thom to pin his arms at his sides, Kusanagi frees her arm, not bothering to look at the damage, and immediately releases her hold on his throat. He won't be out long now that he has blood getting to the brain again. With her bad hand, she holds his muzzle shut. She has some vague memory of animals not being able to open their mouths with as much force as they can manage when biting...but she's thinking of alligators.
Just beneath Thom's collar is the jewel causing all the trouble. Phoenix had mentioned that they have a root and can't just be picked off, so she pinches around the site of the implantation, trying to feel what's under the skin. Neither strength nor squeamishness is an issue, but the stone is in a delicate location, and she gingerly works a nail under the edge, testing how much force she'll need to pull it out.]
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Though for what it's worth, she's right about the bite strength. Most animals don't have a need to force their jaws open; all the strength engineering goes towards closure.
A normal human could pull the root free, so it won't take much strength. But it is long, the wound will bleed and produce a lot of clear fluid. And there is the matter of the thing flailing about and trying to find a new host...
Thom twitches.]
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At last it's out, and the jewel and its root are thrashing like a living thing, the tip probing at the palm of her hand, which does not seem like a friendly gesture. She'd like to get a good look at it, but Thom is bleeding and there's not a pickle jar in sight to toss the thing into, so she just crushes it between her finger and thumb, flicking it aside and putting it out of mind.
Thom's already shredded her t-shirt, so she rips one of the sleeves all the way off and presses it to his throat to slow the bleeding.]
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The puppy twitches spasmodically as the root comes out. It's a good thing he's unconscious, as it seems like it would be excruciating otherwise.
His movements gain coherency as the Major staunches the bleeding at his throat. The white fur of his chest is spattered with red.]
Nnnnnh.
[He licks his nose. Ew what is that taste??]
Ow.
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