Just a little scuffle of a heel at first, but Martin startled himself to react before getting more than a little grazing. Neither head nor ribs, though, felt it – rather his ankle as he was launched high, high up by the force of the lance-out-of-nowhere, aimed down. The looming weight of space the roof caused gave him reason to flail, trying to snatch at...at something, but having no eyes to see it. Below, the lance was just dust falling at Osprey's feet.

As he fell, Martin swung his feet forward, crossing his arms in front of his face. He'd rather keep his nose unbroken than aim proper, despite all the advice otherwise he'd had before. Still, he wasn't too far off if he were hitting, say, something stationary.