The other man crumples like something broken, the kickback of the blast sending a jarring tremor down the shattered bones of Nick's arm, curling tightly around his skull and his spine.
Possibly he screams. Possibly.
In a largely pointless expenditure of energy he cannot afford to be expending, Nicholas rolls to his feet apropos of little to no forward momentum to speak of, his voice tearing with the effort of rising, his bones grinding over one another in agonized chorus.
His arm is a limp and mangled thing by his side, and so it can be disregarded.
He moves forward with swift efficiency and pins the thing's fluttering, damaged wing beneath one heel and leans heavily forward, mercilessly yoking all of his weight over the wing he and Asadi willfully shattered via blunt application of physics.
"I suggest," he says, his voice trembling with poorly-concealed strain, "that you don't move."
tw: brutality and physical trauma, mild bone/joint-related body horror
Possibly he screams. Possibly.
In a largely pointless expenditure of energy he cannot afford to be expending, Nicholas rolls to his feet apropos of little to no forward momentum to speak of, his voice tearing with the effort of rising, his bones grinding over one another in agonized chorus.
His arm is a limp and mangled thing by his side, and so it can be disregarded.
He moves forward with swift efficiency and pins the thing's fluttering, damaged wing beneath one heel and leans heavily forward, mercilessly yoking all of his weight over the wing he and Asadi willfully shattered via blunt application of physics.
"I suggest," he says, his voice trembling with poorly-concealed strain, "that you don't move."