after BURNING, being torn apart and scattered, locked away and placed in conditions that were far beneath those a living being required, yulan had LOST most care for pain. some was sharper than others, though he mostly reacted to the exhaustion of it, the speeding pulse and ragged breathing rather than flinching and crying out at real pain. since he had met sam alone had he been impaled by a bloody PIPE without considering it more than an inconvenience, an unfortunate twist.
he had NO idea who he was messing with. he thought a lot of THEM would be kinder than him, even adrian would likely STOP right then, let him off with a messed up wrist at most, but he was not known to be just that. he had KILLED over less than an attempt at stealing his own belongings. maybe he would kill this one, too. this was FAR from over, however. the way he seemed to sink down was almost disappointing– such a reaction from something that would only draw a growl from yulan himself. he could, however, work with it. the wrist was from the knee-jerk earlier. next up was payback for his foot. after that, the scratch that he could feel gently pulsating by his cheek. he let him move down, dug his hand into the other’s hair and held him up, at the very least on his knees. a few steps and he was in front of him. a pause, and he struck at his cheek, holding him in place, considering the act more as an interlude to what he had in mind rather than a step of his plan. a moment later, he moved to his side again, hand slipping from his hair, instead moving to his shoulder, gripping it tightly while a free hand took a hold of his wrist once more. in one swift motion, he brought his knee forth, pushed it against his elbow, only releasing his wrist once he believed to have succeeded in causing another fracture.
HIS THOUGHTS THEN turned jumbled, messy and disoriented, half thinking of a broken way to escape and half filled him with dread, regret and quiet, inward whimperings over things he hadn't yet said, hadn't experienced. The tides of pain pushing through his arm took most of his thinking space, affected his body in ways he hadn't felt before, feeling both cold and hot as he shook through the unfamiliar agony that waved through his being. Vision darkened over the edges, he seemed to only be able to focus on the dark puddle by the wall, the crack that lined through most of it and the smell of gasoline coming from the street.
Knees hit the ground and he felt small, chipped pieces of concrete dig through his jeans into the hard bone, lips turning into a snarl once his hair was grabbed and he tugged harshly against the grip, trying desperately to cut free one more time before the situation would escalate. He was too weak and his assailant too much like a demon to fight him and his head too dizzy to move away the split second he had been freed. As if a lightning had struck him once his wrist was gripped again, he howled in pain, one that turned into a hoarse cry of pain the moment his knee cracked through his bone. He felt it burn again, felt the bone snap underneath the pressure, his arm feeling disjointed and odd even without seeing the odd angles it presented. He panted, words, pleads, threats and curses lying thickly on his tongue but he felt his own heart beating in his throat, closing off his vocal chords for sounding for anything else but whimpers and panted groans.
