He had him, restrained, detained, the wild beast just another in a long line of animals Dr. Chulane had diagnosed and treated. But he was too sure, too confident in his ability against an inebriated foe, that he could not predict what unfolded next.
(He was falling - )
It happened so suddenly, like a well practised step that Chuy simply had never seen before. He came from a world simultaneously tamer and wilder than this one, where the weapons of choice were one's mind and wit against another's. He was growing stronger in this world, he was learning the many different ways that conflict arose, and that hand-to-hand combat was far more important, and that almost everyone here was better at it than him.
( - brightness danced across his vision, sparks against a blurry backdrop - )
The sheer ferocity and immediacy of the response was ultimately what did it. The weight shifting into him rocked him, his grip loosening as his balance began to teeter. But then came the blow, the elbow on a path straight for his temple.
( - somewhere there was pain, pounding and throbbing, humming along with the rhythm of his heart - )
It connected in a glorious strike, an echo of a crack clearly resounding, though whether it was Korbin's elbow or Chuy's head that cracked remained to be seen. All Chuy knew was that in barely an instant, his head was suddenly rammed backwards in a violent and definitive way, and his body was soon to follow.
( - the brightness got brighter, until suddenly it didn't - )
He fell. And he landed hard on the packed-down icy road, a whomp of air rushing from his lungs as the impact was made. His skull cracked again, upon the earth this time, the origin of the crack unable to be questioned this time.
( - darkness enveloped, followed soon by a dreaded, slow, and deadly cold.)
He was alive, but now he was the one in desperate need for attention, for healing, else he slip into that darkness forever.
(He was falling - )
It happened so suddenly, like a well practised step that Chuy simply had never seen before. He came from a world simultaneously tamer and wilder than this one, where the weapons of choice were one's mind and wit against another's. He was growing stronger in this world, he was learning the many different ways that conflict arose, and that hand-to-hand combat was far more important, and that almost everyone here was better at it than him.
( - brightness danced across his vision, sparks against a blurry backdrop - )
The sheer ferocity and immediacy of the response was ultimately what did it. The weight shifting into him rocked him, his grip loosening as his balance began to teeter. But then came the blow, the elbow on a path straight for his temple.
( - somewhere there was pain, pounding and throbbing, humming along with the rhythm of his heart - )
It connected in a glorious strike, an echo of a crack clearly resounding, though whether it was Korbin's elbow or Chuy's head that cracked remained to be seen. All Chuy knew was that in barely an instant, his head was suddenly rammed backwards in a violent and definitive way, and his body was soon to follow.
( - the brightness got brighter, until suddenly it didn't - )
He fell. And he landed hard on the packed-down icy road, a whomp of air rushing from his lungs as the impact was made. His skull cracked again, upon the earth this time, the origin of the crack unable to be questioned this time.
( - darkness enveloped, followed soon by a dreaded, slow, and deadly cold.)
He was alive, but now he was the one in desperate need for attention, for healing, else he slip into that darkness forever.
chulane
