http://falling-lotus.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] falling-lotus.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] niteo_logs 2010-06-14 04:36 pm (UTC)

Surprisingly, when the other two got a good look at their surroundings, they'd find that he was still upright, one foot planted on the ground while his other knee had hit the pavement. Actual skid marks lined the ground where the force had pushed him yet he'd refused to topple. His arms had shielded his head, leaving them badly marred from flying debris. Along with a painfully skinned knee, having literally been skinned by a drag across the hard ground, and a few small cuts, those seemed to be the extent of injuries received.

Hitsugaya was pulling himself back up in no time at all, sparing only the smallest of winces when he first put weight onto that knee. He'd be dyeing his haori red in a few minutes, he couldn't help but think with a frustrated huff. But he'd dealt with much worse, and in his mind if he couldn't even handle this much, it would be an embarrassing failure on his part.

What with the other two moving around and shouting, he figured they were okay for the moment, and he focused his attention on the damage caused. It was more than he'd been expecting, but he didn't regret his decision. The raging laughter broadcast over the PDAs only served to piss him off, and watching yet another large chuck of drywall and wood and cement topple to the ground after the building it belonged to could no longer hold its weight helped to satisfy a small sadistic need in the back of his mind. Maybe seeing something like this would finally knock it through some thick heads that if they were going to do something stupid, they'd probably end up being blown to pieces before they could finish.

His expression carefully neutral, he decided if this was the sort of message this man chose to send, he couldn't be left to his own devices. His own devices included military-grade explosives.

Finally, he refocused on his two temporary companions, and he quickly took note of how Vera dealt with her dislocated shoulder. A single, pale brow rose in silent question, but rather than waste time voicing that question, he slowly trudged in their direction.

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