Snippet #1929016

Marx

Marx never turned his back on anyone unless he had reason to. And he sure as hell had reason to this time. Oh, it was painful, yes, but amusing nonetheless. He'd watched her become more and more angry, eying the rocks below before he'd turned his back on the little ladybug. The lanky form was completely relaxed when the rock smashed into the back of his head. She had a good arm, he'd give her that. A spasm of pain crossed his face for a second, but he quelled the urge to react. Small doses of pain could be beneficial to the body. He'd learned that in the place. He'd done exercises in ignoring pain and thinking through it, which he was doing now as the back of his head throbbed brutally. Awareness. Pain is temporary it shall pass sooner rather than later. Of course, the awareness didn't work with torture, that was a whole other type of pain, but for little blips it was perfect.

What wasn't so perfect was the little stream of blood dribbling down from his temple. Concussion? She'd got him right above where neck met head, so most likely. The blood vessels in his face had always been particularly sensitive to impact. It wasn't hard to bloody his nose, or do to him what was occurring now. After regaining his composure, Seb turned cordially to Monsowa. The trickle of blood had passed his temple and was now working on making it to his jaw. The edges of his vision complained about the whiteness nibbling at them. He'd need to get his noggin checked out later.

The slender form arched gracefully and captured the rock that had struck him. He gave Monsowa a semi-amused glance as he held the offending object in the palm of his left hand. There were some small smears of blood on the stone, not his blood but hers. Silently he reached up with his other hand. The lump wasn't too bad, or at least, it hadn't grown much so far. It promised to be a nasty little goose-egg, but it didn't particularly bother Seb. It was a trophy for him. Another triumph. He'd pushed Monsowa off the edge.

The male's fingers curled around the stone tightly as he began to speak. He didn't usually flaunt his powers, but it seemed apt at the moment.

"I give you props for the aim and the arm, Monsowa." He said, the grin creepily out of place on the pale face with the blood trickling down one side. "But you loose points for loosing your temper. I think that makes it...Marx twenty, Ladybug two?" He winked. Then his attention was drawn back to the stone as it shifted under his fingers. He was crushing it like it was a lump of talcum powder. The grey and rust colored stone was quickly turning to powder, to dust. He released it and then blow lightly, sending the newly formed cloud of infinitesimally small rocks on their way. Then his eyes flicked back to Lindsey.

"Got anymore rocks for me, cupcake?" the dark haired male asked, spreading his arms apart in a Christ-like gesture.

Oh, it was great fun to taunt and tease, despite the throbbing pain in the back of his head and the growing dizziness he was trying so hard to hide.