[ Grimmjow prepares to strike; Jugram shoves himself upright in the small window of time as he lifts his leg, the stones of the wall scraping his back through the thin fabric of his prison shirt—he escapes the blow to his vitals and takes it in the upper thigh, hard enough for long nostrils to flare with the jolt of pain. He's probably bruised from the initial beating; there hadn't been much occasion to recognize it until the second kick from this fool. ]
Like His Majesty's army conquered Hueco Mundo?
[ His eyes narrow as he speaks, his voice rough for lack of water but edged with cruelty. He's at least upright; if Grimmjow wants to strike at him, he has a better chance of blocking—Jugram doesn't particularly intend to get into it here, without any weapon. He's taller by a few inches and LtCdr. Hubert had taught him to throw punches a few centuries ago, right when he'd first arrived, but this isn't how he's used to fighting and he knows Grimmjow knows that. ]
Only a coward or an animal attacks from behind. [ A cough. ] I suppose that's fitting.
no subject
Like His Majesty's army conquered Hueco Mundo?
[ His eyes narrow as he speaks, his voice rough for lack of water but edged with cruelty. He's at least upright; if Grimmjow wants to strike at him, he has a better chance of blocking—Jugram doesn't particularly intend to get into it here, without any weapon. He's taller by a few inches and LtCdr. Hubert had taught him to throw punches a few centuries ago, right when he'd first arrived, but this isn't how he's used to fighting and he knows Grimmjow knows that. ]
Only a coward or an animal attacks from behind. [ A cough. ] I suppose that's fitting.