[it sure is something, to see the weapon used against people. kavinsky's only done it a few times-- mostly his own friends, when they were drunk and high and carousing and wearing football pads. when he had the device dialed down a few levels. none of them had flown as far as the girls.
aaaaand he's skedaddling, one foot over the next, tiny pieces of asphalt kicking up under his scampering step. he's some kind of idiot, probably, because the next sound out of his mouth is a laugh— hyena wild, brilliant in the afternoon sunshine, rising up wickedly—
only to be interrupted by the whumpf of supercharged air hitting something semi-solid. kavinsky is the semi-solid; he's filled with liquid, after all. it's a glancing blow, fortunately, but easily enough to jolt him off his feet, just like a bowling pin, or maybe-- more accurately, just like the girls he'd sent to the pavement seconds ago. he travels three feet. lands heavily on his face, the wind slammed out of his lungs, his eyes big for an instant, then smaller the next, shocked. he tries to roll over, but it's a dying fish kind of movement, heavy and uncoordinated.]
F'ck, [he says to no one in particular. out-blustered by a two-foot tall mutant. the hell.]
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aaaaand he's skedaddling, one foot over the next, tiny pieces of asphalt kicking up under his scampering step. he's some kind of idiot, probably, because the next sound out of his mouth is a laugh— hyena wild, brilliant in the afternoon sunshine, rising up wickedly—
only to be interrupted by the whumpf of supercharged air hitting something semi-solid. kavinsky is the semi-solid; he's filled with liquid, after all. it's a glancing blow, fortunately, but easily enough to jolt him off his feet, just like a bowling pin, or maybe-- more accurately, just like the girls he'd sent to the pavement seconds ago. he travels three feet. lands heavily on his face, the wind slammed out of his lungs, his eyes big for an instant, then smaller the next, shocked. he tries to roll over, but it's a dying fish kind of movement, heavy and uncoordinated.]
F'ck, [he says to no one in particular. out-blustered by a two-foot tall mutant. the hell.]