Sting 15

For her part, Foil plunged the twelve foot spear in deep, then slashed.  What had been supporting railings were now like teeth, sawing on the way out.

It was almost effortless in how it cut, even with its weight, screwed up balance, and crude makeup.

The spear shifted from its rainbow shimmer and effortless cutting to being normal, stuck where it was, while Foil adjusted her balance and used it for leverage to change position.

She was doing a fair amount of damage.  Blood washed out of the wounds, always in short spurts that ceased within seconds of starting, always unobstructed flows, like water from an opened dam, but thicker.

My skin prickled beneath my clothes, and I backed away from Foil, before using my forcefield and spinning to try and displace the smoke.