[And there it is. He doesn't berate himself for the mistake: he wasn't really going to attack her, probably, maybe, it's her fault for attacking him first. Still, he cuts off a cry as he grasps his head, losing his balance and rolling off the picnic blanket. Great, now his suit will have grass stains all over it.]
Go to hell, [he growls, pushing himself up to his knees, trying to reach his feet. He wants to wring her neck, but with his powers dampened here, he'll never reach her in time.]
Sorry. [He tries to grin, but it's more a grimace.] Go to hell, my lady.
spam.
Go to hell, [he growls, pushing himself up to his knees, trying to reach his feet. He wants to wring her neck, but with his powers dampened here, he'll never reach her in time.]
Sorry. [He tries to grin, but it's more a grimace.] Go to hell, my lady.