[The bolts rip through him but, fueled by the pulsing adrenaline of his rage and fighting instinct he doesn't go down. His scream is pain but its laced with anger and trapped frustration and this - this is the moment he could manage those two steps to reach her if he'd wanted to damage her. If he'd wanted to kill her. He doesn't, curling inward instead as much as he can with his upper body immobilized and the ugly purple electric jumps across his body, sings through his blood and bones, twists and wrenches his muscles until he finally does go down, writhing, cut off, strangled noises forcing their way through the strain of his constricted throat. His eyes squeeze shut and tears well in them, escape the edges and the lightning feeds on the liquid. Still, weakly now, trying to protect himself, he curls but it doesn't make any difference. The leaping electric is gleeful in its invasiveness. He tastes blood in his mouth again but this time he's sure its his and the muzzle and cords are raw against him as his body is jerked hard, twisted, wrenched. His mind loses track of time, loses track of the situation, loses track of who he even is and it goes on and on and on, until there's never been anything else but the pain and there never will be. When his eyes finally roll back in his head and his body goes limp, only jerking and spasming because of the electric currents firing still through his muscles, his skin is already smoking again in spots and, several minutes later when his arm deactivates and the electric stops and his body gives a last few reactive jerks, his breathing is erratic and shivering. But he's still breathing.]
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