Bruce grit his teeth against the impact but refused to stop moving. He craned his neck to his left shoulder, ripping the fabric of his toga such that the sleeve would come free with the least bit of force. That in mind, he yanked his left arm out of Jenso's closing grasp, leaving behind the discarded sleeve for Jenso's hand to close in on. He rolled into one side, pulling his right arm from Jenso's shoulder beneath him, beginning to press his body up off the ground while he was still horizontal. Using his newly freed left hand, he held his fingertips together and rigid like a blunt spearhead, stabbing into Jenso's right shoulder. Assuming he'd managed to strike a nerve bundle, the arm wouldn't be able to move for at least thirty seconds. Bruce whipped his weight around, pivoting on just his right hand and bringing his feet in a swinging arc toward the side of Jenso's head.