Somehow, someway, Wreath could see. Not physically, because his eyes were blank and unfocused, noticeable even from where Tesseract was standing. But he could see. He'd seen the chair. And his next attack didn't even seem to need guidance or aiming - he waved his cane, Tesseract instinctively expected the shadows in the room to rise, and was completely unprepared for what actually happened.
It was somewhat akin to being knocked over by a large wave at the beach. Tumbling head over heels, no idea which way was up, and - sometimes - without even an idea of where you were. Tesseract imagined it was like being in a washing machine. Not a modern nondescript one, but one made years ago, the kind that used to vibrate.
It felt like hours before the room even started to spin in a vaguely cohesive manner around him, and by the time Tesseract could open his eyes without suffering a minor headache, his sense of up and down was completely ruined by the sight of Low on the ceiling above him.
She leaped up from the ceiling and slammed her boots into Tesseract's chest, sending him down to the floor again. But pain, Tesseract could handle, and if anything it jolted him back to his senses that much more quickly. With his sternum still sprouting pain, Tesseract reached up and flipped Low off of him by sweeping her feet out from under her. His hands hated him for it, but Tesseract lumped that pain together with his sternum pain and ignored it all. Low, to her credit, regained her balance fairly quickly. The thing was, Tesseract did as well.
Without her sword, Low was much more wary. She had her broken arm cradled against her chest, but her lower body was relaxed and loose, ready to fight. Tesseract watched her make up her mind. When she finally ran at him again, Tesseract let her feint a kick, then gripped her good wrist as it sailed at him and lifted her whole body up with the ensuing momentum. Her struggle was ultimately useless without anything to kick off of, so Tesseract lifted her even higher into the air and threw her towards Wreath.
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It was somewhat akin to being knocked over by a large wave at the beach. Tumbling head over heels, no idea which way was up, and - sometimes - without even an idea of where you were. Tesseract imagined it was like being in a washing machine. Not a modern nondescript one, but one made years ago, the kind that used to vibrate.
It felt like hours before the room even started to spin in a vaguely cohesive manner around him, and by the time Tesseract could open his eyes without suffering a minor headache, his sense of up and down was completely ruined by the sight of Low on the ceiling above him.
She leaped up from the ceiling and slammed her boots into Tesseract's chest, sending him down to the floor again. But pain, Tesseract could handle, and if anything it jolted him back to his senses that much more quickly. With his sternum still sprouting pain, Tesseract reached up and flipped Low off of him by sweeping her feet out from under her. His hands hated him for it, but Tesseract lumped that pain together with his sternum pain and ignored it all. Low, to her credit, regained her balance fairly quickly. The thing was, Tesseract did as well.
Without her sword, Low was much more wary. She had her broken arm cradled against her chest, but her lower body was relaxed and loose, ready to fight. Tesseract watched her make up her mind. When she finally ran at him again, Tesseract let her feint a kick, then gripped her good wrist as it sailed at him and lifted her whole body up with the ensuing momentum. Her struggle was ultimately useless without anything to kick off of, so Tesseract lifted her even higher into the air and threw her towards Wreath.