Post by Mantis on Jan 18, 2017 3:47:39 GMT
What happened next should have been considered a natural development to what had already been a particularly shitty day in his life.
Even with the foreign substance percolating through his body, Mantis found himself surprised, shocked even, at how leisurely his shot was countered. His bad leg stirred under him as he took a moment to stare at the tranquilizer bullet dropping on the ground, yet leaving its mark unphased. Mantis managed an erratic heartbeat before the action resumed again, after a moment of shock and dust had passed.
The urgent need to make a swift exist pounded the back of his head as he evaded a pattern of attacks that came at him in various forms. The angel was relentless, untiring and worst of all, completely void of anything Mantis could have interpreted as any kind of emotion. His pace was exhausting and while the stimulants suppressed the feeling of pain, the stress put on Mantis’ artificial limb left an unnerving amount of room for error.
Well aware of this, he tried to make his escape by placing a round of concussive shots between himself and the angel. Dust billowed and sparks flew as the shots fanned the ground, offering a fraction of second for Mantis to make his effort for an escape. But while it might have slown his enemy’s advances with his little trick, just as he was about to make a leap further away, a blade found his bad leg.
His ungraceful collision with the ground knocked the air right out of him. He gasped, trying to swiftly gather his legs back underneath him but at that point, it was too late. The grim realization of this dawned upon him alongside with the angel’s shadow. Mantis quickly shifted on he ground, so that he would still be facing the creature head on, with a grimace that did little to scare anyone. The only worrisome thing about him might have been opioid gun he had pointed at his own neck, as it obviously posed very little threat when aimed at his adversary.
Mantis was very much aware that while the next shot might be able to pull him back up, it might also kill him. And had the day proven he had any luck left, he might have been willing to take that chance. Now, however, he hesitated.
Even with the foreign substance percolating through his body, Mantis found himself surprised, shocked even, at how leisurely his shot was countered. His bad leg stirred under him as he took a moment to stare at the tranquilizer bullet dropping on the ground, yet leaving its mark unphased. Mantis managed an erratic heartbeat before the action resumed again, after a moment of shock and dust had passed.
The urgent need to make a swift exist pounded the back of his head as he evaded a pattern of attacks that came at him in various forms. The angel was relentless, untiring and worst of all, completely void of anything Mantis could have interpreted as any kind of emotion. His pace was exhausting and while the stimulants suppressed the feeling of pain, the stress put on Mantis’ artificial limb left an unnerving amount of room for error.
Well aware of this, he tried to make his escape by placing a round of concussive shots between himself and the angel. Dust billowed and sparks flew as the shots fanned the ground, offering a fraction of second for Mantis to make his effort for an escape. But while it might have slown his enemy’s advances with his little trick, just as he was about to make a leap further away, a blade found his bad leg.
His ungraceful collision with the ground knocked the air right out of him. He gasped, trying to swiftly gather his legs back underneath him but at that point, it was too late. The grim realization of this dawned upon him alongside with the angel’s shadow. Mantis quickly shifted on he ground, so that he would still be facing the creature head on, with a grimace that did little to scare anyone. The only worrisome thing about him might have been opioid gun he had pointed at his own neck, as it obviously posed very little threat when aimed at his adversary.
Mantis was very much aware that while the next shot might be able to pull him back up, it might also kill him. And had the day proven he had any luck left, he might have been willing to take that chance. Now, however, he hesitated.
