Right, add 'knife dodging' to the list of things this guy can do, nestled neatly next to 'be a fucking square'. Darcy doesn't feel bad about telling him to shoo at least. Even if he could dodge knives, nobody stays lucky forever.

Speaking of which, Darcy fumbles her next deflection, unable to bring her sword up in time, and the knife strikes her right in the arm, a slice through her hoodie and a decently deep gash in her arm.

"Fuck!-" she curses, a hand going to press against the wound instinctively, "this- this shit is why I told you to fucking move, fucking shit motherfucker-"

Darcy takes a step backwards, intending on just leaving to lick her wound and leave him to his stubbornness.