Weapon arm collides with weapon arm, each keeping the other from full effect. It's a fair trade as far as Rinzler's concerned, especially as he'd still prefer not to activate that blade. Bel's elbow, however, will simply be ignored; Rinzler's grip digging in tighter to lock down his prey despite the squirming. He's not a user—not as weak as one—and if Rinzler's taste runs more to precision strikes and displays of agility than this close-contact mess, that's all the more reason to get it over with quickly.
Rapid-fire calculations track their vector as the room twists past in periphery, a cycling blur of walls-ceiling-floor. This time, the user can be their point of impact, and his limbs tuck, shifting a little to be sure. There's a buzzing vibration at the point of contact in their shells, an odd noise that doesn't quite match the feedback from his own. Shouting? Stupid, pointless... unless it has a comm line open. Scans sharpen, checking to be sure...
The faint stiffness that coils through their captor's frame, Bel will definitely be able to feel. No comm line, no call, but a match, signature identified and known. Bel_Thorne. User security (former security) from the system they both shared until it crashed. Part of the group he's tagged along with since, in their (pointless) (hateful) search for the Portal.
Ally? No, not in the least. But Rinzler knows them.
And they, unlike the other errors who'd walked in, know Rinzler.
He clings on through the ricochet. It's only after that Bel will see a curve of light flare to life, white edge surrounding the red-orange ring as Rinzler activates his disk. They know the weapon, they know what it can do, but there's no move to slice or throw, no attempt to bypass their weak block. Instead, Rinzler twitches his blade carefully: toward the stunner, then away.
no subject
Rapid-fire calculations track their vector as the room twists past in periphery, a cycling blur of walls-ceiling-floor. This time, the user can be their point of impact, and his limbs tuck, shifting a little to be sure. There's a buzzing vibration at the point of contact in their shells, an odd noise that doesn't quite match the feedback from his own. Shouting? Stupid, pointless... unless it has a comm line open. Scans sharpen, checking to be sure...
The faint stiffness that coils through their captor's frame, Bel will definitely be able to feel. No comm line, no call, but a match, signature identified and known. Bel_Thorne. User security (former security) from the system they both shared until it crashed. Part of the group he's tagged along with since, in their (pointless) (hateful) search for the Portal.
Ally? No, not in the least. But Rinzler knows them.
And they, unlike the other errors who'd walked in, know Rinzler.
He clings on through the ricochet. It's only after that Bel will see a curve of light flare to life, white edge surrounding the red-orange ring as Rinzler activates his disk. They know the weapon, they know what it can do, but there's no move to slice or throw, no attempt to bypass their weak block. Instead, Rinzler twitches his blade carefully: toward the stunner, then away.
Drop it.