[SE] i'll make you wanna think twice

it's not your fault that you're always wrong

Jack can go and lick his wounds later, he decides, even as the blows from the Bastion continue to fall at close proximity; granted, they are more emotional than physical. It's a peculiar feeling nonetheless, to be needled by someone on another person's behalf, and he finds his mental shields curiously lacking on that particular front. Clearing his throat and straightening up, the bruise on his neck already starting to form courtesy of Remi's forearm, Jack certainly doesn't feel like the victor in this no matter what exterior he decides to present.

"Yeah, and I bet it kills you that it doesn't make a difference right now, doesn't it?" he hisses as he sidles past the Bastion, sparks crackling at his heels and frost coating his fingertips before he's free of the supply closet, his business within it long forgotten.

~FIN