[ He's blind to everything going on around him but for the need to kill the three of them. He can see them converging; doesn't know what they're saying. Can see them splitting up, forcing him to pick them off one by one. Which is fine. He'll do it. It pisses him off, adds to the anger he's feeling, but just about everything is doing that, anyway — so he'll do it.
He's blind to the emotions being shared between them, to the fact that his are contributing to the atmosphere; they're so all-consuming that he's drowning in his own anger. Anyone else's determination, trepidation, levelheadedness are nothing more than a drop in a storm to him, and all there is — all there ever has been — is a storm.
He's blind to whatever they throw at him until it hits him, too. He's blind to the way his left leg is increasingly becoming heavy and immobile, no pause in his steps as he limps along with it. He's blind to Gen's attack until it hits him, knocks the air out of him; something in him should absolutely break but instead it just cracks under the impact, loud, before holding firm. He yells as pain is swiftly converted to anger, voice growing louder as he is subsequently stabbed, drowning out whatever it is Kaeya has to say to him.
Just like with his leg, he has no ability to grasp what's happening to his shoulder, his arm. The cold is drowned out by rage. All he knows for sure is that Kaeya is doing something to him, and all it does, as far as he's concerned, is add fuel to his fire. He grabs at Kaeya, digging his claws into his upper arms as he brings his face in, eyes narrowed and gaze boring directly into his, lips curled back into a snarl, teeth dangerously close, hovering over him for a few seconds.
The cold starts to penetrate his mind, a recognition that his arms aren't feeling the way they should, and so he uses everything he has in him to try to pry Kaeya off of him, force him to disengage, literally throw him away before trying to round on Gen, whether he's successful or not. ]
no subject
He's blind to the emotions being shared between them, to the fact that his are contributing to the atmosphere; they're so all-consuming that he's drowning in his own anger. Anyone else's determination, trepidation, levelheadedness are nothing more than a drop in a storm to him, and all there is — all there ever has been — is a storm.
He's blind to whatever they throw at him until it hits him, too. He's blind to the way his left leg is increasingly becoming heavy and immobile, no pause in his steps as he limps along with it. He's blind to Gen's attack until it hits him, knocks the air out of him; something in him should absolutely break but instead it just cracks under the impact, loud, before holding firm. He yells as pain is swiftly converted to anger, voice growing louder as he is subsequently stabbed, drowning out whatever it is Kaeya has to say to him.
Just like with his leg, he has no ability to grasp what's happening to his shoulder, his arm. The cold is drowned out by rage. All he knows for sure is that Kaeya is doing something to him, and all it does, as far as he's concerned, is add fuel to his fire. He grabs at Kaeya, digging his claws into his upper arms as he brings his face in, eyes narrowed and gaze boring directly into his, lips curled back into a snarl, teeth dangerously close, hovering over him for a few seconds.
The cold starts to penetrate his mind, a recognition that his arms aren't feeling the way they should, and so he uses everything he has in him to try to pry Kaeya off of him, force him to disengage, literally throw him away before trying to round on Gen, whether he's successful or not. ]