Creepy Child [Finished!]

[Bee]

"NNNRGGGGH," Vishne gritted out, with astounding eloquence, and set his concentration to keeping his pain ability going through its duration was well as beating the kid physically. He would not be overcome by a feral child. Deranged banders he could cope with; his siblings he could cope with; any number of ordinary travesties, he could absorb into his fathomless blob of internal shame and process.

But here he was drawing another line in the sand, slightly farther back than the last line he had drawn, and farther back still than the one before that. But this would be the last line!

His ability was like a sack of penny's for light's sake. Pennies hurt. Lots of pennies hurt. Right?

RIGHT.

He punched the little thing in the face, trying to pop it square on the jaw to get it to dislodge its terrible teeth from his sensitive flesh. He did not enjoy the feeling of losing blood.

"Go eat someone else! I taste like failure!"

[Greenie]

Indivar was holding on well to his consciousness - the getting beaten with a sack sensation was starting to level out into something tolerable, though it was still making his lone eye feel kind of fuzzy, and not in a good way. The blood, though.. the blood was so tasty.

He was all set on not giving up until the little twat went and punched him in the jaw, and sent his head reeling again - not to mention he was still getting hit by whatever magical ability the brat had spawned. He let out a loud squawk of pain, and was forced to relinquish his hold on Vishne's arm in order to nurse his smarting jaw. Sadly, the lack of physical contact didn't lessen the other painful effects, and he backed up a few feet to glare menacingly at the brightly colored Card. If only he had any powers worth using on the stupid boy... it might be time to invest in some highly painful magical abilities.

[Bee]

Vishne backed up as the creature-child did, putting that little bit more space between them. It had backed off and was glaring, clearly still in some manner of pain. His forearm was throbbing something terrible, and he figured the sooner he could get it wrapped up and stop the flow of blood, the better. He tried not to look down at it. That might make him nauseated. He was a bit of a squeamish person. He wanted to just leave that job to Senka; the only thing he was capable of contributing were probably tiny tears of pain.

This was as good an opportunity for escape as he was going to get, and he was going to take it.

He turned and ran, as fast as his incredibly painful leg would allow, trying to keep the creepy little monster distracted with pain ability as much as he could--he wasn't sure whether concentration difficulties, distance, or the time limit would break it first, but he was gonna be far away at that point.

It didn't seem to be following. He made it back to his house.

"Senka," he panted, tiredly. "Why is it always me?"