[ Hell, she wouldn't have even been mad if Golisopod had punched her head off — but he goes for the body shot, noble bug that he is, and instead of a decapitation, she gets what feels like a couple broken ribs as the blow knocks her off her feet and sends her flying a short distance. She tumbles roughly into the sidewalk with an audible wheeze, the wind knocked straight out of her lungs — but it doesn't keep her down too long. In a minute, she's shoving herself to her feet with a mean look of amusement on her face, like she might be having fun for the first time today.
One hand comes to press at her side, testing those ribs. Almost healed, and almost is good enough. ]
You're going to have to try a lot harder to make me cry. [ She brushes a little dirt off her uniform — as if that matters when she has one sleeve practically burnt right off. ] Feels like you're going easy on me.
no subject
One hand comes to press at her side, testing those ribs. Almost healed, and almost is good enough. ]
You're going to have to try a lot harder to make me cry. [ She brushes a little dirt off her uniform — as if that matters when she has one sleeve practically burnt right off. ] Feels like you're going easy on me.