Re: [Jester's Court: Cat & Jack]
Yes, all right, he hadn't thought it through. Jack had left 'carefully' behind, like loose change dropped from a pocket or the ash from the blunt. He didn't factor in the terror refracting like light in all that glass and rebounding endlessly in a mirror-box without a doorway. Jack's reactions were piss-poor at the best of times when someone came at him: still riding the tail-end of a buzz that made an amusement park limned with screams hilarious, he wasn't the measure of an astounding performance. Cat launched, and Jack took a beating and he had a hand against his solar plexus or wherever it was he'd been kicked when Cat struggled to surface.
Because the screaming, the terror, it was evidently noxious and the reaction, Cat breaking for air even if blind, was an iota less concerning than cradled in a corner screaming her head off. Jack was delayed. He didn't have lithe athletic ability, he watched instead as Cat blasted pipe against glass. It shattered, obviously. It was cheap glass, not built to sustain itself under onslaught and it broke away in fat shards and tiny pieces. It was jagged, and ugly and Jack looked, instead, for where a crack in the wall behind the glass might give an indication that there had been, at one point, a door.
"Bloody idiots, who the hell finds being trapped fun?" But he kicked the broken glass clear, and stayed clear of the swinging pipe and when the glass clattered and a thin, hair-line fracture of a crevasse showed where this idiotic creation seamed together, he didn't so much as reach for Cat's shoulder (interrupt the swing, take the hit, whatever the repercussion) as bellow over the noise.