[@LeeRoy]

[i]Gonad normally never let an opponent go, but as LeeRoy kicked backwards he would do so. He must have felt that this one had the potential to show him more experience. The heat hands were a new one, and Gonad for one loved to experience the abilities of an interesting opponent. It wasn't about being offended anymore. He would roll backwards into a handstand from his prone position, just like that, in a single motion. His legs flopped and dangled about, loose on the charred kneecaps. Gonad's back would be to LeeRoy, his head cocked up between his shoulder blades to keep the spaceman in sight. What the fuck was this motherfucking shit. Gonad never lied, and his body never lied. His intentions were as clear as the blue sky. He was going to continue the fight like that freaky-ass tunnel monster from Hellraiser. [/i]

[img]http://cdn.playbuzz.com/cdn/efd1f048-030b-4d3c-a6bb-a8185e9a3c53/7a8aa062-d2ff-43da-854a-eb7962d1b65c.jpg[/img]

That would make obvious another thing, one that perhaps LeeRoy might have already divined from the thousands of scars on Gonad's body. He was more than used to getting hurt. For Gonad, getting wounded was all part of the whole enchilada. He probably ran himself straight into swords on a regular basis, just to get at the poor bastards holding them. Severe injury wasn't a big deal when you had the vitality of a Texas rattler, the ingenuity of a Republican performing a twenty-hour filibuster, and connections with the best magical healers in the county.