"What? No fight left in you?" Xaldin yanked the knife from where it had stuck in his arm and tossed it back at Twelve. "I was begninning to enjoy myself."
Xaldin managed to knock both of the blades out of the air by hurriedly summoning one of his lances with most of it sticking out the window. Keeping the weapon hovering in front of him, he asked, "Care to try again?"
Xaldin quickly pulled a gust of wind in to somewhat block the knives and launched the window fragments at Larxene. Since not all of the kunai fell, he brought up his already injured arm to shield himself from the rest.
Oh crap. Now he was screwed. The only thing he could do in the van was pull a gust of wind in from outside and that wouldn't help much if Larxene decided to pelt him with all of her kunai. Still, Xaldin didn't back down. Instead, he held up what pieces of the window he had left and growled, "Just try to."
Again, Xaldin smirked. Picking up another shard of glass, he leveled his somewhat cocky gaze on the Nymph. "I called you a cockroach," he repeated.
Idly launching the shard in Larxene's direction, Xaldin returned, "And you're a cockroach."
Frowning, Xaldin began to look for the last of the shards he'd worked from his arm. Picking one up, he muttered, "And care to explain why you've decided to call me a freak? I'm a manipulator, Larxene. There's more to being a so-called 'freak' than my tendency to twist other's perceptions."
Giving a somewhat feral grin, Xaldin asked, "Mind explaining how? In terms that can't be argued with?"
Xaldin ignored the insult and kept his focus on keeping his arm from stiffening. Focusing through the pain from the cuts, he asked, "And being a sadist is different from being a freak?"
"Just try it," he shot back. "You'll end up impaled on my lances."
Smirking at the threat, Xaldin returned, "Good luck with that. I doubt that you'll pull it off." This time, when he straightened his arm, he held it that way for a moment, enduring the pain.
"Because you're a sadist and some of us have short tempers when forced into enduring the company of all twelve other Organization members." Looking away, Xaldin experimentally straightened his arm, not going far before returning it to its original position.
Hearing Larxene's mirth, Xaldin glared at her. "Shut it! At least it got rid of the stench."
"A freaking first-aid kit," Xaldin muttered. His arm hurt like hell from where he'd sent it through the window and was still bleeding. Finished with his slight sarcasm, the Lancer added, "Something with ice that Vexen had absolutely nothing to do with."
(I thought that was just the second card...)
(I understood that. What I meant is what's she talking about, just for clarity purposes and because she is actually talking.)
(I'm confused as to what Larxene's wondering about. Would you mind explaining for me?)
"Good. Pick a fight with someone else now," Xaldin grumbled. With that, he returned to picking glass from his arm and shredded sleeve.
Faced with the charged knives, Xaldin knew better than to fight back with his lances, which would send the electricity through him. To counter, he pulled as fierce a gust of wind as he could through what was left of the window.
Not really caring that it would get him into more trouble, he was already going to be in enough for breaking the window, the dragoon launched one of the shards across the van. "My pleasure, Twelve."
