The Other Reaction

[knightmare]

::stumbling forwards, he held his hand behind his back, a vine of shadows wrapping around Pietro's feet, he pulled up, yanking him down and lept up, driving his elbow right into his sternum::

[Pietro Maximoff]

::That last impact slipped past Pietro's mental barrier; the pain was intense. What little hold he had broke with the pain in his sternum. He slipped from the shadows, running to another part of the room.:: "Youthinkyouarequitethebigmandon'tyouYou'renothingmorethanalittlepunkandsomebodyshouldhaveputyouinyourplacealongtimeago."

[knightmare]

::he stood ready, shadows swirling around him, raising an eyebrow to him, smiling beneath his dark veil:: Listen to you...I bet you couldn't even work well with other children growing up, talking like some idiotic speedfreak...

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro picked up another chair from the set and hurled it at the other man with all of his might. He had struck a nerve with that last comment. Those months in his youth when he had first developed his speed, when he had left everyone behind in the dust, mentally and physically. Not able to even speak to others without Wanda's innate understanding and Uncle's telepathy. His father...his father had thought him damaged, had told him so multiple times before he learned to slow himself.

Wanda, his perfect sister, would tell him every night that he would learn. That he could communicate again, like a "normal" mutant. When he was upset, he lost that control he built. The hurt from Typhoid's news, the anger at this man he faced, the pain from the memories, none of this would let him slow.:: "Ibetyouwerethefirstpersontobeatontheunpopularhildren,totreatthemliketheyweredirtYoumakemesick."

[knightmare]

::an arm of shadows grabbed the chair and broke it into pieces and he glared at Pietro:: I protected those same kids when I was younger because those people were my friends...

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro found that hard to believe; the way the insults rolled off his tongue were all too similar to Magneto. Another man who professed to protect those who were different, but was merely a wolf in sheep's clothing. Pietro was finished talking, at least until he could calm himself enough to slow. He flung another chair towards the other man, and then ran over to intercept it. Catching it as it fell towards his hands, he quickly whipped it around, smashing it across the younger boy's face. Just as quickly, he was back on the other side of the room.::

[knightmare]

::he stumbled to the side, clenching his fist and spread his arms out wide, a massive wave of solid darkness flaring up behind him. He shot his arms forwards and the moving shadows rushed at Pietro, hitting him square on and driving him back towards the wall at an incredible rate of speed::

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro knew from the way the shadows hit him that he couldn't simply slip free. If his spine hit that wall, it would hurt him. All he could do was try to absorb it, so he twisted his position, so he was feet first. His legs had been built to absorb impact. As he crashed into the wall, the shock wave started at the soles of his feet and moved through his body. From the pain that managed to break through his emotional wall, he was glad it hadn't been his spine.

The shadows seemed to back off after he'd made impact, and he moved away from the wall, back to his corner of the holographic room.::

[knightmare]

::as soon as Pietro refocused, Tim was right on top of him again, a scissor styled kick landing right behind Pietros neck, bringing both men down to the ground::

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Down on the ground, Pietro rolled them over so he was on top. He was angry enough to wring the other man's neck, but he reminded himself that would do nothing, unless he snapped it. Instead, he slid his hands to Tim's shoulders, pulling his head off the ground, before slamming it down with all his strength into the wooden floor.::

[knightmare]

::the back of his head bounced off the floor and he saw stars for a second, his dark-suite faltering slightly. After shaking the cobwebs, he clenched his fist and threw a right cross at Pietro's face that made his whole body follow through with it::

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro recoiled from the punch, but only for a split-second. He recovered himself, and wrapped his powerful legs around the other's man's body, which would keep him in place. Weight pressed down into the other man's chest, he took a hand from a shoulder and returned the punch with all his strength.::

[knightmare]

::his head rocked, then his eyes narrowed and he thrust his hand upwards, grabbing Pietro around the throat, his other hand balled into a fist. His grip on his throat tightened while his fist swung hard at the bridge of his nose::

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro slipped out of the young man's grip, giving himself a stiff neck and the other man's hand something akin to rug burn. He cared only about being able to breathe; narrowly escaping the punch was only an added bonus. He needed to be more careful, not letting himself get strangled like that. He began pummeling Tim's stomach with his fists, as hard and fast as he could.::

[knightmare]

::after a few shots Tim soldifyed Pietro's hands inside the darkness. Grabbing his collar, he pulled his head towards him, smashing his forehead into the bridge of Pietro's nose::