Huh? [he twitches his head up from his previous hunched smash, one hand still buried in metal and smoke. all it takes is a second for xue yang to appear through the fumes, vaulting over the entire mess in attack. shit. he jerks his hand backwards, shoulder tugging to wrench it free with a screech of aluminum. only a moment's too late as impact crushes atop his helmet. snaps his head down like a broken marionette, silver backing stabbing towards the ceiling as his neck bows under his suit.

it's no keyblade strike, but it prompts him to put a foot behind himself for balance. xue yang's evasive action reflects in the glass bowl as he lifts his head again, peering at the man with an almost animalistic mix of curious and annoyance.]

Hmph. Vermin. [got out of the way in time, hm? only a crash of metal, plastic, and glass. no wet squelches or slicing indicates the little bastard managed to avoid it. and had enough time to counterattack. it's hard to tell whether he sounds amused, impressed, disappointed, or irritated. ] So you've got some survival instinct.

[rising, he plants his foot against the ruined machine, then shoves it away with a harsh motion, sending the entire thing bouncing and scraping across the carpet. if he can't summon his keyblade at the moment, guess he'll have to do this the old fashioned way: with his own two hands.

his steps exude confidence and purpose, fists swinging at his side as he strides towards the other man at an easy clip. amazing symphony around them, isn't it, people screaming and crying out, running over each other in attempts to put as much distance between themselves and violence. cowards, the lot of them. no one even trying to step in and be a hero for this poor idiot on his deathbed.]

Should've listened to it earlier. You might've walked away from this alive.