[The magic is raw, desperate, and primal. Its presentation is unexpected in some ways, exactly what he needed in others, and if L had the kind of control over this force he typically manages over his spells? He would find a way to twist and gouge with the weapons, ensure as much damage as possible to one who wants to clip his wings. Because he spoke true to Myr, and feels it now with keening intensity: what Niles is trying to take from him is something he cares enough to fight for with everything in him, even considering his sizable disadvantage.
Of course, Niles is going to fight back. Why wouldn't he? It wasn't a killing blow, L realizes with a plummeting sensation. Maybe more than the son of a bitch can just walk off, but not what he needed, not what would have helped him. As Niles shatters the icicles, L feels the shock through his forearm, and cries out involuntarily at the rending pain that he's sure will split through his own bone and muscle... but as his vision blurs and grays from his own significant blood loss, he is able to note that it never happens. The blood is diligently recollected by the collar, along with some of Niles', and while it's liquid once more, it's cold in his veins to the point where he pulls at his restraints with only the impulse to curl and preserve his body heat. His latest effort spent, it'll be some time before he can try again, if he even wants to put himself through that punishment once more. Half-conscious, he's winded and panting, shivering uncontrollably as the collar regulates his blood with a slight, dulled catch. Is the difference due to the intermingling of Niles blood in his system, or...?
He's dimly aware of the chimera attending to his wounds. He's dazed and fighting to retain consciousness, when it would be so much more easier to let the darkness flirting with him just melt his torment away.]
no subject
Of course, Niles is going to fight back. Why wouldn't he? It wasn't a killing blow, L realizes with a plummeting sensation. Maybe more than the son of a bitch can just walk off, but not what he needed, not what would have helped him. As Niles shatters the icicles, L feels the shock through his forearm, and cries out involuntarily at the rending pain that he's sure will split through his own bone and muscle... but as his vision blurs and grays from his own significant blood loss, he is able to note that it never happens. The blood is diligently recollected by the collar, along with some of Niles', and while it's liquid once more, it's cold in his veins to the point where he pulls at his restraints with only the impulse to curl and preserve his body heat. His latest effort spent, it'll be some time before he can try again, if he even wants to put himself through that punishment once more. Half-conscious, he's winded and panting, shivering uncontrollably as the collar regulates his blood with a slight, dulled catch. Is the difference due to the intermingling of Niles blood in his system, or...?
He's dimly aware of the chimera attending to his wounds. He's dazed and fighting to retain consciousness, when it would be so much more easier to let the darkness flirting with him just melt his torment away.]