Not a moment went by that Mindfang hadn't boasted about her perfect luck, and Darkleer has to grudgingly admit that hers always does seem to be better than his. He can practically feel her brush against the tips of his fingers and then she's bouncing away with her boot grazing his face. Hissing, he pulls back.

Another failure. Again.

Pulling back, he just sneers at her. "Cut?" With his uninjured arm, he pulls out his omni-tool from his sylladex where it attaches to his wrist easily. The blue light comes to life, forming the smooth shapes over his arm as he goes to hold it over his cut. Thin beads of light dart over his skin, which starts to restitch itself together leaving a pale blue scar.

"You'll need more than that."