Near the Beach
Jakob's kick hits Mercutio square in the chest. There is a crunch of bone, a flash of pain, and Mercutio is sent soaring backwards into the air. Luckily his weapons are bound to his hands, or else they would have been knocked out. The devil blinks a few times, surprised to find himself in this predicament. It was really quite awkward. Stupid, too, he chides himself. Should've seen that coming.
The brute's kick probably broke a rib or two. Mercutio could do something about that later - if there was a later. Right now, he had more pressing concerns. Nimbly, Mercutio twists to adjust his trajectory so that he's facing forwards - a living, horizontal missile. He brings up his blades, holding them outstretched so that they're about the distance of Jakob's eyes apart. There is another puff of blue smoke, and Mercutio is transported mere feet from the brute's face.