Flashing light, the riotous noise of gunfire, and the jarring beat of of the gun in his hands from recoil got the blood pumping through the Margrave's veins.  This feeling of elation, free of any hindrance the knowledge that his bullets were rubber might otherwise have provided, surged through his body like lightning right up until the sinking feeling began to set in.  Anyone with half a brain could figure out that a being made of straw wouldn't be too bothered by bullets, but as Eyeblight closed in the Margrave began to comprehend the extent of their inefficiency.  [i]They're not even slowing him down![/i] he wanted to wail, even as one of the monster's arms detached.  Before he could say or do anything else, the world was spinning, and the MAC-10's stream of bullets ceased when the Margrave hit the floor.  Instantly a spike of pain shot through his lower spine, tailbone, and hips.  Gritting his teeth, the Margrave watched as his assailant repaired what little damage he'd managed to do.  From prior experience he knew that while this injury didn't hurt too bad now, given his level of adrenaline, it would worsen as it lasted for days.  In a single motion, the dastardly villain had effectively ruined his next half-week, but of course it wasn't like he'd stop there given the chance.

If Eyeblight pressed his advantage to bury his knife between the Margrave's ribs, the tragic tale of the young rogue would have likely ended then and there.  No antihero could have asked for a more appropriate fate—to perish in the cold dark, unloved and unmourned, his ferocious spark extinguished with such ferocity that it would jolt the remaining do-gooders into coming together and turning the situation around.  After the day had been won, he imagined, the heroes would think back to the stranger who allied himself with them, for better or worst, and died to give them the impetus they needed to win.  Perhaps an unmarked grave would be erected for him in the woods somewhere...an anonymous monument, though small, and a testament to the spirit of the man who sacrificed himself.

Alas, it was not to be.  Eyeblight changed targets, resigning the Margrave to live in pain for now.  Naturally he would regret this decision.  Disregarding his gun for now, the rogue scooted away across the floor, searching through his jacket.  When he held up his hand again, it contained a bunch of Lego bricks.  Hastily, as his crow-scaring nemesis went after his fellow Ward, the Margrave constructed his bricks into a wall a few inches high and across.  A storm of dramatic words entered his mind, but he kept them to himself so as to secure the element of surprise.  After getting to his feet, he waited for an opportune moment when Messiah was no longer entangled with Eyeblight, then lobbed the little construct in his direction.  In midair it transformed into a wall of cinderblocks several feet wide and tall, ready to squash the Margrave's enemy against the tunnel wall.