( It all happens impossibly fast. His arms are still singing with the familiar pain of hitting something way too solid with something also way too solid, using human joints that are less solid — when suddenly a wave of hot red wetnesss cascades over his face. He's way, way too used to the sensation of arterial spray, he should not recognize it the way that he does.
But he does.
It's a little blinding, a lot disorienting, and the adrenaline's still pumping. In the span of six seconds, Jack's mind doesn't catch up with the initiative order change to the combat round. He doesn't realize a new player has entered the game, only that it's his turn and something's still moving.
Before it clicks that it's Kyle and not a second (or still somehow living) outrice, Jack swings his shovel again in the general direction of Kyle's head. )
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But he does.
It's a little blinding, a lot disorienting, and the adrenaline's still pumping. In the span of six seconds, Jack's mind doesn't catch up with the initiative order change to the combat round. He doesn't realize a new player has entered the game, only that it's his turn and something's still moving.
Before it clicks that it's Kyle and not a second (or still somehow living) outrice, Jack swings his shovel again in the general direction of Kyle's head. )