[ But that sure gets results a lot faster than he'd been expecting. Then again, he isn't exactly sure what he'd been expecting for half a second as the impact nearly catapults him out the back of his head through the wall behind. And definitely not in the way he needs to. Shit. ]
[ By the time things start fading in from white again, Sigma's wedged against the wall, nothing at anything less than a painful, awkward angle. He squirms enough to get a free arm against Jason's chest, dig it into the front of his jacket, but it's nothing worth any leverage. Just reflex, clinging there like it'd help him cling to consciousness until the proper moment to bail. Coupled with the force, the wild, barely hinged haze in the other's gaze is enough to spike his adrenaline again. He's still there, somewhere, hanging by a thread, but there's hungry anger sick and hot blazing behind his eyes. Enough that it shouldn't take much more than a matchstick to light the fuse and poke the bear over the edge. ]
[ So naturally, he goes for the flare gun. ]
No you try again!
[ Emphasized by the fist that he pulls out of Jason's collar and drives upward with all the force he can muster into his chin. Which is a tight and terrible angle, but it's fueled by undeniable panic that he can't resist, digging its spines into his own. ]
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[ But that sure gets results a lot faster than he'd been expecting. Then again, he isn't exactly sure what he'd been expecting for half a second as the impact nearly catapults him out the back of his head through the wall behind. And definitely not in the way he needs to. Shit. ]
[ By the time things start fading in from white again, Sigma's wedged against the wall, nothing at anything less than a painful, awkward angle. He squirms enough to get a free arm against Jason's chest, dig it into the front of his jacket, but it's nothing worth any leverage. Just reflex, clinging there like it'd help him cling to consciousness until the proper moment to bail. Coupled with the force, the wild, barely hinged haze in the other's gaze is enough to spike his adrenaline again. He's still there, somewhere, hanging by a thread, but there's hungry anger sick and hot blazing behind his eyes. Enough that it shouldn't take much more than a matchstick to light the fuse and poke the bear over the edge. ]
[ So naturally, he goes for the flare gun. ]
No you try again!
[ Emphasized by the fist that he pulls out of Jason's collar and drives upward with all the force he can muster into his chin. Which is a tight and terrible angle, but it's fueled by undeniable panic that he can't resist, digging its spines into his own. ]