Lexine had been watching his show with a blank look, waiting for either freedom or confinement. Thomas' face darkened, and her heart jumped. She surged forward in the chair, aiming to ram her head into Thomas' nose but by the time she thought of acting, his hands were at her throat, forcing her head back as his weight sent them tumbling. She bared her teeth, opening wide and futilely trying to earn a bite of the wrists by her jaw. Her mind blanked as she fell. All of the politics of the last hour drifted away, and panic was replaced by an icy grip along her spine that made her sick to her stomach. Clarity. The chair slammed against the floor, jostling her head and signalling the beginning of hostilities. She brought her hands up to her shoulders, and went to work. Her left hand grasped at her attacker's wrist on the same side in an attempt to pin his hand, while she brought her right arm up and swept, elbow out, across her front. The chair kept her from being flush with the ground, and despite immense protest from her waist and the weight holding her she jerked to turn herself in support of her sweep. The strike was intended to force Thomas' hold off or elbows out with raw leverage, or at least put her in a better position to start gouging with the short time she had left.