[ Ashe watches his leader, sharp eyes catching the way he tenses, and it’s all the warning Ashe gets before Dimitri springs into the open, going for his fallen firearm. Ashe is up in an instant as well, poking up from behind their cover and ready to put a bullet into anyone who so much as twitches towards Dimitri.
That doesn’t happen, a small favor amid the carnage. Once the silence has settled for a moment or two more, Ashe stands. He doesn’t drop his gun into its holster, that would be a fool move, and instead keeps it at the ready, held loosely in both hands. He can feel the slow, warm trickle of blood running down his cheek from when he got grazed earlier, but he doesn’t bother to wipe it away. Not until he knows they’re safe.
Movement, and Ashe’s gun ticks in the direction of the bar, only dropping once he sees the familiar faces of Dedue and Felix. Ashe breathes out a sigh of relief, and then he finally takes a hand from his pistol to wipe at his face with the back of his sleeve. Dedue goes right for Dimitri, because of course he does, and Ashe’s eyes keep sweeping the room. There’s no more movement, which is making something uneasy coil in Ashe’s stomach.
They’re missing one.
But an order gets lobbed at him, and he doesn’t have time to dwell. ]
On it.
[ Glass and broken bits of furniture crunch under his shoes as he moves across the room, stepping over the larger pieces and spent bullet casings. He rounds the remains a plush bench, something that’s kept in the restaurant’s waiting area, upholstery stripped by bullets and the stuffing flung around to paint this little corner white… but for an all too familiar flash of red.
It isn’t blood – though there’s plenty of that as well – and Ashe goes suddenly still. There’s another body or two in the corner, but those don’t matter. He’s over there in an instant, pushing the other bodies aside, red staining his palms as does. ]
Boss?
[ Quiet, tense, but his voice feels oddly loud in the wake of the nonstop thunder of automatic weapon fire, even with Dimitri seething off to one side. Now that he’s cleared the others away, Sylvain is staring up at him with unseeing eyes, face gone slack. Lifeless.
no subject
That doesn’t happen, a small favor amid the carnage. Once the silence has settled for a moment or two more, Ashe stands. He doesn’t drop his gun into its holster, that would be a fool move, and instead keeps it at the ready, held loosely in both hands. He can feel the slow, warm trickle of blood running down his cheek from when he got grazed earlier, but he doesn’t bother to wipe it away. Not until he knows they’re safe.
Movement, and Ashe’s gun ticks in the direction of the bar, only dropping once he sees the familiar faces of Dedue and Felix. Ashe breathes out a sigh of relief, and then he finally takes a hand from his pistol to wipe at his face with the back of his sleeve. Dedue goes right for Dimitri, because of course he does, and Ashe’s eyes keep sweeping the room. There’s no more movement, which is making something uneasy coil in Ashe’s stomach.
They’re missing one.
But an order gets lobbed at him, and he doesn’t have time to dwell. ]
On it.
[ Glass and broken bits of furniture crunch under his shoes as he moves across the room, stepping over the larger pieces and spent bullet casings. He rounds the remains a plush bench, something that’s kept in the restaurant’s waiting area, upholstery stripped by bullets and the stuffing flung around to paint this little corner white… but for an all too familiar flash of red.
It isn’t blood – though there’s plenty of that as well – and Ashe goes suddenly still. There’s another body or two in the corner, but those don’t matter. He’s over there in an instant, pushing the other bodies aside, red staining his palms as does. ]
Boss?
[ Quiet, tense, but his voice feels oddly loud in the wake of the nonstop thunder of automatic weapon fire, even with Dimitri seething off to one side. Now that he’s cleared the others away, Sylvain is staring up at him with unseeing eyes, face gone slack. Lifeless.
Goddamn it. ]