[ Oh boy is right. To his credit, Rufus handles his weapon like he knows how to use it, and Alec believes that much is true. Dear daddy Shinra probably made sure that Rufus could fend for himself, but just how that pans out in the real world against real monsters remains to be seen. ]
Just wondering what kind of shit show I'm in for. I should have brought popcorn.
[ They have no real location of the drakes' nest, only that they're "too close for comfort", which for some people could mean "anywhere at all". The only thing for it is to just keep wandering until they find them. ]
[In this instance, Rufus isn’t bothered by Alec’s skepticism; a VR training sim might not be the exactly the real thing, but it’s sure damn close enough. The tech was beyond what most could even comprehend, the danger of injury just as real, and therefore the skills learned? Just as legitimate.
But let him think what he wants. No doubt he considers Rufus just a rich kid with a gun, but it’s no skin off his back.
The shotgun clicks back to into place with a satisfying sound, and he holds it at ready, smirking at Alec.]
You do that.
[As if fate itself was telling Alec to get his figurative popcorn ready, a distant building, barely held up by cobbled together pieces of metal, creaks, groans, and then falls over in a noisy display. The reason becomes clear — one drake had perched on top of it, its weight too much and unbalanced, then took to the air again as the building began to crumble. It hovers mid-air, looking forward another place to land.]
[ The sudden crumpling of the building, while somewhat startling, isn't all that unexpected. This part of the slums is barely held together as it is, and a stiff breeze could probably upend some of the rickety structures and piles of debris.
Well, at least they didn't have to look too terribly hard for their (read: Rufus') quarry. Apparently those drakes really are too close for comfort.
Or one of them is. There should be a brood of those things. ]
Try not to mess your hair up too bad.
[ For his own part, Alec finds some place to stand back. He claimed not to be a fighter before - in so many words - and he means to stick by that. ]
[If you're not going to be any help, Alec, then he has no need for your snarky comments!
Since this is an opportunity that shouldn't go wasted, Rufus closes the space between himself and the drake by a few paces. He lifts his weapon up, aiming the barrel in the general direction of the drake and fires off a shot.
The wide arc of buckshot misses, mostly, some of it scraping past the talons of the monster. The noise certainly is loud enough to give it a startle, which seems to be the point, if Rufus' satisfied look is of any indication -- the drake turns mid-air and flies off in a direction, further down past the fallen building into an area where there seems to be several rows of them, should they peer down that way.]
There's a whole nest, isn't there? [Tilting his gun back to rest against his shoulder, Rufus casts a look at Alec.] Let's follow. It'll save time to get this done all at once.
[ Taking the whole nest on at once is not a sound strategy, in his opinion. Better to thin them out so there's less chances of being overwhelmed, but Rufus has already scared the first drake off, so there's not much to be done about it. ]
[He’s already walking. The direction the drake flew off in is lined by large rows of once-buildings that now look like little more than hollowed out shells of their former “glory”. A few are fairly tall, enough to cast shadow beneath their forms as they amble beneath them, though they all look like they’re one stiff wind away from tumbling over, just like the other.]
So you’d rather draw this out as long as possible? I knew you enjoyed my company.
[ Alec has poked his head out here a few times on odd jobs, but the landscape is always changing thanks to decay and weather and a dozen other circumstances. They are one collapsed building away from needing to find a new way back to the gate, assuming they ever get that far. ]
This isn't about your company, Junior. It's about taking on a whole nest of drakes at once with just a shotgun and how that's maybe a bad idea.
[That's a problem for future Alec and Rufus. Right now, Shinra's heir is more focused on the job at hand, and getting the reward money for it. He'll not admit as much, but he must have something to line his pockets for the next week or so, else he's out on the street (or holed up in some shitty motel somewhere, probably back in Wall Market) since he has no place to stay quite yet.]
Maybe you've never seen me fight and should save your commentary for after we're done.
[They'll have to practically hop over fallen beams and other detritus, but eventually the sound of another drake echoes nearby, and following the path leads them into a cramped alleyway, thick with rust from the neighboring buildings coating each side. When they squeeze through, it opens up into a wide, circular area that runs steeply downhill.
Perched in the metal walls that surround it, and a few even settled on the ground with their wings folded back, are an array of drakes. If either of the men are quick about it, they can count at least five before they're noticed.]
[ He still doesn't have a whole lot of faith in Rufus' abilities, but he's said his piece. Either Rufus surprises him, in which case Alec might be inclined to eat his words (but probably not), or he doesn't, and Alec will have a big, fat "I told you so" waiting in the wings.
They wind their way into what can only be the drakes' lair, and Alec makes sure to give Rufus a generous lead. He's not fighting on this one. Five drakes in all by his quick count, which is better odds than he expected, but he's still hanging back by their point of entry. Have fun, Rufus! ]
[At this point, Alec has made it abundantly clear that he has no intention to help, and Rufus doesn’t expect as much. Instead, he leaves him at the entrance to watch for as long as his heart desires. It’s a smaller nest, which is good to know, but even if it were a group of ten or twenty, it would be difficult to tell if his reaction would have been any different. If his confidence, purposefully worn and yet utterly sincere, would at all falter.
With the way he moves down the slope, eyes forward and shotgun at the ready, all signs point to “no”.
Anything he does will be the equivalent of kicking the hornet’s nest, and Rufus feels no need to be subtle. The first shot is a cheap one — directed at the nearest drake with the clearest line of sight, perched lower than the rest and unawares until the last minute. It’s a direct hit, the spread embedding itself into its back, buckshot tearing into wings and pushing into its spine. It shrieks and tries to take flight, only to careen to the ground, kicking up dust uselessly.
The other drakes, of course, take notice — their startlement soon turns to aggression, and those not already mid-flight take to the air. Rufus cocks his shotgun a second time.]
Let’s not drag this out.
[And the fight starts in earnest.
Rufus is quick — perhaps surprisingly so for someone who doesn’t make a living fighting — and even as the drakes encircle him, swooping in low with talons flashing in the Midgar sun, he either sidesteps, or twists his body, or simply dodges out of the way at the last second. He counts his shots, times them just right as each drake passes by. Each one ends up with a shot to the wing, and when he’s lucky, he can fire one in the opened-jaws if he times it just right, and the spread lodges itself in the back of its throat. One catches some in the eyes, and falls to the ground, blinded. It’s easy enough to finish that one off when it’s thrashing at his feet.
It goes smoothly enough until they’re down to two. Rufus is still only human, and though he is quick and calculating, luck will only remain with him for so long. This drake is particularly angry, throwing its entire body into Rufus, sending him skidding back and nearly upending his balance. He digs his heels into he ground to remain upright, sending one more scattered shot straight into the beast’s belly, but the second takes this opportunity to catch him deep across the shoulder with an extended talon as it swoops by.
He hisses, pain searing, and the drawn blood soaks warmly into his clothes. It’s ignored — it isn’t his dominant arm that’s affected, and so when the creature comes ‘round and makes an attempt to do the same, Rufus turns his body to aim one-handed down the muzzle. He fires. The drake collides into him. The result is a skewed shot that partly slams into the ground, and the rest straight into the neck of the monster.
Both shotgun and drake fall to the ground, skidding in the soil. The creature is quick to bleed out, but it’s not dead just yet, trying to regain its footing in its dazed state. Rufus knows it doesn’t have long, and just leaves it there for now.]
Tch. [A hand presses to his wound, cut deep between shoulder and neck. He’s fortunate it didn’t sever muscle or tendon.]
Edited (now that I’m properly awake I can see ALL MY ERRORS) 2020-05-03 15:40 (UTC)
[ Alec has to admit - he’s impressed. He might not say as much out loud, depending on how his mood is faring by the end of this little field trip, but Rufus surpasses his expectations quickly. His expectations were for him to get overwhelmed and die almost instantly, so it’s not hard to do, but still.
Rufus is good. He’s fast and smart and somehow makes such a messy weapon seem elegant, but at the end, numbers are still on the enemy's side. One of the drakes lands a good hit, and it’s frankly astonishing that it took this long. Even injured, Rufus makes short work of the beast, and Alec is about ready to head down the hill to see how Rufus - and his clothes, mostly his clothes - is faring, when he sort of gets the sense that something isn’t quite right here.
Five drakes down, and that’s all well and good, but didn’t Bobby say something about “big momma”?
From over the ruins there comes an ungodly shriek, and a sixth drake, larger than the rest, rockets over the little makeshift wall around the clearing. She doesn’t see Alec, and in fact flies right over his head as if he’s not there. Her sights are set on Rufus and the bloody remains of her brood. ]
Rufus!
[ As if he needs the warning, but it slips out anyway. ]
In the moment that passes in-between a furious mother drake appearing and its talons reaching Rufus, he chides himself for being so thoughtless. For letting his guard down, even for a moment, without thinking it through — of course there’s another one, a bigger one. These drakes were too small and too easy to down, but he had been glad to do it, and quick to assume the work was over when the last one fell. Distracted, maybe, by the red blossoming across his shoulder.
Too late now.
The thing casts a vast, stretching shadow across his form as it descends, and Alec’s warning barely registers in his mind before its tail has whipped into his side, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He stumbles, but his mind is already telling him one thing: he needs to get to his gun, and though it isn’t graceful, Rufus manages to keep his balance and make a lurch for his weapon, lain useless on the ground a few feet away.
But then he feels a vice-grip around his leg and the world upends itself. He’s pulled up, and everything is upside-down, swaying; if the monster has grabbed him by the ankle and is thinking of mauling him mid-air, he’s going to be a really pissed ghost after he bleeds out and dies.
He doesn’t even glance up (down?) at the creature, because he’s sure he’d only see flashing talons, an angry maw, and leathery wings. Instead, a useless reach towards his shotgun (god, his shoulder), coupled with a command to Alec—]
[ Alec has an impulse to run in and do… something. He’s not sure what, since the beast is on Rufus before he can fully think it over, but by then Alec is halfway down the hill anyway. For all that Alec secretly hoped that Rufus’ stay in the slums, and in this world for that matter, would come to a swift end, he doesn’t actually want to see the guy die.
For some reason.
(That reason being retaliation from his father, most likely, and not because he has a troublesome conscience that sounds too much like his own dad when he least wants it to.)
The wizard hops over the fallen body of one of the smaller drakes, skidding in the dirt as he scoops the shotgun up. Without even waiting for his momentum to slow, Alec lobs the shotgun up at Rufus’ outstretched hand. It’s a good toss, and Alec can only wait to see if Rufus is able to make something of it. ]
[Good thing Alec is quick on his feet, but too bad the situation is little too harried for Rufus to feel any kind of gratitude just yet. He’s reaching, impatiently, even as the man swoops down and lobs his shotgun back at him, his hair fallen all out of place thanks to gravity. It’s a good throw, though, and Rufus catches it by the stock, twisting it around in his hands to steady it.
To say this is the most awkward firing position he’s been in would be the biggest understatement of the century, but at least his target is uncomfortably close. It means that he can raise up the barrel and aim anywhere on the drake, letting loose a spread of buckshot that barely misses his own foot. But you know, a win’s a win, especially when the world is literally vacillating back and forth and upside-down.
It catches the mother drake on the wing, but she’s made of sterner stuff than her brood — this only angers her, and she kicks out her hind legs to release Rufus by flinging him at Alec.]
[ While Rufus is busy dangling around and trying to right his weapon, Alec takes a chance - the wizard raises a hand and casts, slashing out a rune in the air before him. Thankfully for him, Rufus is very occupied by his current situation, and the stormy purple color of Alec's magic isn't terribly eye-catching.
Still, it's a big risk, and Alec knows he has to be fast. The thunder of shotgun fire seems to herald the arrival of lightning, rather than the other way around. Alec slashes out the final mark of his spell, and the sigil vanishes in a streak of bright lightning that arcs into the drake--- just about the time it flings Rufus at him.
The lightning bolt goes one way while Shinra's heir goes the other, and Alec only has a split second to brace for impact, activating his Enhancements almost on instinct. He half-catches, half collides with Rufus. While Alec doesn't keep his footing, he's not as winded as he could have been by the impact, and the subsequent collision with a nearby wall of debris.
At least he managed to down the drake. She's not dead, but definitely dazed, smoke coiling off her scales as she struggles to get back up. ]
[As soon as he fires, his perception becomes a blur. There’s no way of registering what’s happening, other than the lurch in his stomach as he goes swinging from one direction to the other — let go, it feels like, to go colliding into something in the most graceless way possible. Instinct has him holding onto the shotgun tightly, making certain its barrel is pointed away from his body, in case his luck is doubly bad enough for it to go off accidentally.
When he’s landed, his mind finally reorients itself, and Rufus sits up with pain shooting through his body. His elbow digs into Alec’s stomach, and he’s quick to realize that the other’s broken his fall, along with a pile of debris surrounding them. How he’s managed it without breaking a bone is another mystery altogether (and maybe the same can’t be said for Alec; he can’t tell.) but he wastes no time in trying to untangle himself so that he’s on his feet again, pushing his hair out of his eyes with a free hand.
He reassesses. The mama drake’s dazed from his shot (scales smoking? An oddity noted for later), and he needs to take advantage of it. He’s lost count of his shots — he's on nine, ten maybe — but it doesn’t matter now. What’s left in his shotgun is unloaded into the creature as soon as he can move close enough, a little haggardly, but raising the barrel to an easy target all the same.]
[ It's a fucking miracle neither of them get shot full of holes as Rufus careens into Alec, but Alec finds it kid of hard to count his blessings in the moment. Thankfully, neither of them seem to be terribly injured - apart from the gash in Rufus' shoulder, which leaves Alec smeared with the other man's blood in the crash.
Rufus is up quickly, leaving Alec to his own devices for a moment. The wizard heaves a sigh, letting go of his wards before they become too much of a problem. He's left feeling a bit weary, but overall much less worse for wear.
The way Rufus finishes off the drake isn't pretty - but then, if Alec were being generous, he might say the first five minutes of this farce were pretty, and everything since then has been an utter shit show. At least he's keeping with the current theme. Still reeling from the lightning strike and pumped full of buckshot, the drake ceases to even twitch. ]
Fuck.
[ The word somehow feels too loud in the wake of all that gunfire. Alec has to play it up a little, groaning as he gets to his feet. ]
Rufus realizes that he's catching his breath once the silence finally settles in the area. The offended drake is very much dead, staining the ground with her blood, but Rufus' body is still grappled with adrenaline, and he has to force himself to lower his gun arm after a few seconds pass.]
Job's a success, no matter how you look at it.
[Yeah, it was a shitshow, but it was a successful shitshow, and Rufus' battered pride won't allow for it to be perceived in any other way. He turns to face Alec, shoulder bloodied and numb, while the rest of him begins to throb with pain.]
Yeah, sure buddy. You just keep telling yourself that.
[ Alec leans heavily on the wall of debris he'd just slammed into. Even with his Enhancements up, he'd been real lucky that there hadn't been any jagged bits of metal or rusted rebar sticking out of that mess. Magic will only do so much against stabbing.
For being a disaster, the last few moments were certainly filled with little miracles.
He takes a moment to look Rufus over. He's still bleeding everywhere, and that arm of his doesn't seem to be in great shape. He'll come down off the adrenaline soon enough and the pain will really set in. ]
For what? Catching you? I didn't have much of a choice.
For throwing me my gun. But if you don't want the gratitude, that's fine by me.
[He moves to holster his shotgun, trying not to wince the entire time. Rufus then moves closer to Alec, his steps a little uneven, and feeling like his joints just went through hell and back. He ignores the blood; it might be nasty to look at it, but the drake missed anything important, and so-]
I take it you're uninjured? Because we've got a reward to pick up now.
[ Alec keeps his eyes on Rufus, watching his every movement. Yeah, he's in a bad way, battered and bruised and, oh yeah, still bleeding. Rufus might be trying not to wince, so Alec winces for him, and that really annoying conscience of his rears its ugly head.
It's entirely Rufus' fault for rushing in, but perhaps if Alec had been a bit more accommodating, a bit more helpful, he might have slowed down a bit.
That's a dangerous line of thinking, but there it is all the same. ]
Shit, Junior. At least take a minute to stop bleeding all over the place. Let's get you patched up first, then you can get your money.
[He’s sure he’s not gushing blood, not a wound that’ll be a hindrance in getting him to point A to point B. Especially when point B is getting paid for his work — an important foundation of living income for the days to come.
The pain will come soon, he knows it. Once the rush of a fight fades, its going to be a little harder to use that arm of his, and he’d rather not deal with one more difficulty right now. Not yet.
That, and he doesn’t need to be pitied.]
My shoulder’s injured, not my leg. I can walk, and I want to pick up the reward I’ve earned while I still can.
[ Alec gives Rufus a skeptical look, eyebrows arching as he leans over to look at the guy's shoulder. It's not a shallow wound by any means, but it's difficult to tell just how bad it is with the blood and dirt and torn clothing in the way. ]
Okay, so you're not bleeding out, but you are bleeding. On my clothes. Which are now ruined.
[ This is absolutely about his stuff and not about any kind of concern for Rufus' well-being. Yup. ]
Only because your dad will blow a gasket if something actually bad happens to you down here, like it wasn't his idea to ship you here in the first place.
[ Which is not entirely untrue, but some part of him still feels like he should have been a bit more helpful instead of throwing Rufus straight to the proverbial wolves. He fared well, all things considered, but that could have gone so much worse. ]
But you're the boss. Go on, walk it off and collect your gil. I won't stop you.
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finalflight2020-04-22 12:49 pm
no subject
[ Oh boy is right. To his credit, Rufus handles his weapon like he knows how to use it, and Alec believes that much is true. Dear daddy Shinra probably made sure that Rufus could fend for himself, but just how that pans out in the real world against real monsters remains to be seen. ]
Just wondering what kind of shit show I'm in for. I should have brought popcorn.
[ They have no real location of the drakes' nest, only that they're "too close for comfort", which for some people could mean "anywhere at all". The only thing for it is to just keep wandering until they find them. ]
no subject
But let him think what he wants. No doubt he considers Rufus just a rich kid with a gun, but it’s no skin off his back.
The shotgun clicks back to into place with a satisfying sound, and he holds it at ready, smirking at Alec.]
You do that.
[As if fate itself was telling Alec to get his figurative popcorn ready, a distant building, barely held up by cobbled together pieces of metal, creaks, groans, and then falls over in a noisy display. The reason becomes clear — one drake had perched on top of it, its weight too much and unbalanced, then took to the air again as the building began to crumble. It hovers mid-air, looking forward another place to land.]
Look who’s here.
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Well, at least they didn't have to look too terribly hard for their (read: Rufus') quarry. Apparently those drakes really are too close for comfort.
Or one of them is. There should be a brood of those things. ]
Try not to mess your hair up too bad.
[ For his own part, Alec finds some place to stand back. He claimed not to be a fighter before - in so many words - and he means to stick by that. ]
no subject
[If you're not going to be any help, Alec, then he has no need for your snarky comments!
Since this is an opportunity that shouldn't go wasted, Rufus closes the space between himself and the drake by a few paces. He lifts his weapon up, aiming the barrel in the general direction of the drake and fires off a shot.
The wide arc of buckshot misses, mostly, some of it scraping past the talons of the monster. The noise certainly is loud enough to give it a startle, which seems to be the point, if Rufus' satisfied look is of any indication -- the drake turns mid-air and flies off in a direction, further down past the fallen building into an area where there seems to be several rows of them, should they peer down that way.]
There's a whole nest, isn't there? [Tilting his gun back to rest against his shoulder, Rufus casts a look at Alec.] Let's follow. It'll save time to get this done all at once.
no subject
They don't pay more for efficiency, you know.
[ But he's following anyway. ]
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So you’d rather draw this out as long as possible? I knew you enjoyed my company.
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This isn't about your company, Junior. It's about taking on a whole nest of drakes at once with just a shotgun and how that's maybe a bad idea.
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Maybe you've never seen me fight and should save your commentary for after we're done.
[They'll have to practically hop over fallen beams and other detritus, but eventually the sound of another drake echoes nearby, and following the path leads them into a cramped alleyway, thick with rust from the neighboring buildings coating each side. When they squeeze through, it opens up into a wide, circular area that runs steeply downhill.
Perched in the metal walls that surround it, and a few even settled on the ground with their wings folded back, are an array of drakes. If either of the men are quick about it, they can count at least five before they're noticed.]
no subject
[ He still doesn't have a whole lot of faith in Rufus' abilities, but he's said his piece. Either Rufus surprises him, in which case Alec might be inclined to eat his words (but probably not), or he doesn't, and Alec will have a big, fat "I told you so" waiting in the wings.
They wind their way into what can only be the drakes' lair, and Alec makes sure to give Rufus a generous lead. He's not fighting on this one. Five drakes in all by his quick count, which is better odds than he expected, but he's still hanging back by their point of entry. Have fun, Rufus! ]
no subject
With the way he moves down the slope, eyes forward and shotgun at the ready, all signs point to “no”.
Anything he does will be the equivalent of kicking the hornet’s nest, and Rufus feels no need to be subtle. The first shot is a cheap one — directed at the nearest drake with the clearest line of sight, perched lower than the rest and unawares until the last minute. It’s a direct hit, the spread embedding itself into its back, buckshot tearing into wings and pushing into its spine. It shrieks and tries to take flight, only to careen to the ground, kicking up dust uselessly.
The other drakes, of course, take notice — their startlement soon turns to aggression, and those not already mid-flight take to the air. Rufus cocks his shotgun a second time.]
Let’s not drag this out.
[And the fight starts in earnest.
Rufus is quick — perhaps surprisingly so for someone who doesn’t make a living fighting — and even as the drakes encircle him, swooping in low with talons flashing in the Midgar sun, he either sidesteps, or twists his body, or simply dodges out of the way at the last second. He counts his shots, times them just right as each drake passes by. Each one ends up with a shot to the wing, and when he’s lucky, he can fire one in the opened-jaws if he times it just right, and the spread lodges itself in the back of its throat. One catches some in the eyes, and falls to the ground, blinded. It’s easy enough to finish that one off when it’s thrashing at his feet.
It goes smoothly enough until they’re down to two. Rufus is still only human, and though he is quick and calculating, luck will only remain with him for so long. This drake is particularly angry, throwing its entire body into Rufus, sending him skidding back and nearly upending his balance. He digs his heels into he ground to remain upright, sending one more scattered shot straight into the beast’s belly, but the second takes this opportunity to catch him deep across the shoulder with an extended talon as it swoops by.
He hisses, pain searing, and the drawn blood soaks warmly into his clothes. It’s ignored — it isn’t his dominant arm that’s affected, and so when the creature comes ‘round and makes an attempt to do the same, Rufus turns his body to aim one-handed down the muzzle. He fires. The drake collides into him. The result is a skewed shot that partly slams into the ground, and the rest straight into the neck of the monster.
Both shotgun and drake fall to the ground, skidding in the soil. The creature is quick to bleed out, but it’s not dead just yet, trying to regain its footing in its dazed state. Rufus knows it doesn’t have long, and just leaves it there for now.]
Tch. [A hand presses to his wound, cut deep between shoulder and neck. He’s fortunate it didn’t sever muscle or tendon.]
no subject
Rufus is good. He’s fast and smart and somehow makes such a messy weapon seem elegant, but at the end, numbers are still on the enemy's side. One of the drakes lands a good hit, and it’s frankly astonishing that it took this long. Even injured, Rufus makes short work of the beast, and Alec is about ready to head down the hill to see how Rufus - and his clothes, mostly his clothes - is faring, when he sort of gets the sense that something isn’t quite right here.
Five drakes down, and that’s all well and good, but didn’t Bobby say something about “big momma”?
From over the ruins there comes an ungodly shriek, and a sixth drake, larger than the rest, rockets over the little makeshift wall around the clearing. She doesn’t see Alec, and in fact flies right over his head as if he’s not there. Her sights are set on Rufus and the bloody remains of her brood. ]
Rufus!
[ As if he needs the warning, but it slips out anyway. ]
no subject
In the moment that passes in-between a furious mother drake appearing and its talons reaching Rufus, he chides himself for being so thoughtless. For letting his guard down, even for a moment, without thinking it through — of course there’s another one, a bigger one. These drakes were too small and too easy to down, but he had been glad to do it, and quick to assume the work was over when the last one fell. Distracted, maybe, by the red blossoming across his shoulder.
Too late now.
The thing casts a vast, stretching shadow across his form as it descends, and Alec’s warning barely registers in his mind before its tail has whipped into his side, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He stumbles, but his mind is already telling him one thing: he needs to get to his gun, and though it isn’t graceful, Rufus manages to keep his balance and make a lurch for his weapon, lain useless on the ground a few feet away.
But then he feels a vice-grip around his leg and the world upends itself. He’s pulled up, and everything is upside-down, swaying; if the monster has grabbed him by the ankle and is thinking of mauling him mid-air, he’s going to be a really pissed ghost after he bleeds out and dies.
He doesn’t even glance up (down?) at the creature, because he’s sure he’d only see flashing talons, an angry maw, and leathery wings. Instead, a useless reach towards his shotgun (god, his shoulder), coupled with a command to Alec—]
Throw it at me!
no subject
For some reason.
(That reason being retaliation from his father, most likely, and not because he has a troublesome conscience that sounds too much like his own dad when he least wants it to.)
The wizard hops over the fallen body of one of the smaller drakes, skidding in the dirt as he scoops the shotgun up. Without even waiting for his momentum to slow, Alec lobs the shotgun up at Rufus’ outstretched hand. It’s a good toss, and Alec can only wait to see if Rufus is able to make something of it. ]
no subject
To say this is the most awkward firing position he’s been in would be the biggest understatement of the century, but at least his target is uncomfortably close. It means that he can raise up the barrel and aim anywhere on the drake, letting loose a spread of buckshot that barely misses his own foot. But you know, a win’s a win, especially when the world is literally vacillating back and forth and upside-down.
It catches the mother drake on the wing, but she’s made of sterner stuff than her brood — this only angers her, and she kicks out her hind legs to release Rufus by flinging him at Alec.]
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Still, it's a big risk, and Alec knows he has to be fast. The thunder of shotgun fire seems to herald the arrival of lightning, rather than the other way around. Alec slashes out the final mark of his spell, and the sigil vanishes in a streak of bright lightning that arcs into the drake--- just about the time it flings Rufus at him.
The lightning bolt goes one way while Shinra's heir goes the other, and Alec only has a split second to brace for impact, activating his Enhancements almost on instinct. He half-catches, half collides with Rufus. While Alec doesn't keep his footing, he's not as winded as he could have been by the impact, and the subsequent collision with a nearby wall of debris.
At least he managed to down the drake. She's not dead, but definitely dazed, smoke coiling off her scales as she struggles to get back up. ]
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When he’s landed, his mind finally reorients itself, and Rufus sits up with pain shooting through his body. His elbow digs into Alec’s stomach, and he’s quick to realize that the other’s broken his fall, along with a pile of debris surrounding them. How he’s managed it without breaking a bone is another mystery altogether (and maybe the same can’t be said for Alec; he can’t tell.) but he wastes no time in trying to untangle himself so that he’s on his feet again, pushing his hair out of his eyes with a free hand.
He reassesses. The mama drake’s dazed from his shot (scales smoking? An oddity noted for later), and he needs to take advantage of it. He’s lost count of his shots — he's on nine, ten maybe — but it doesn’t matter now. What’s left in his shotgun is unloaded into the creature as soon as he can move close enough, a little haggardly, but raising the barrel to an easy target all the same.]
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Rufus is up quickly, leaving Alec to his own devices for a moment. The wizard heaves a sigh, letting go of his wards before they become too much of a problem. He's left feeling a bit weary, but overall much less worse for wear.
The way Rufus finishes off the drake isn't pretty - but then, if Alec were being generous, he might say the first five minutes of this farce were pretty, and everything since then has been an utter shit show. At least he's keeping with the current theme. Still reeling from the lightning strike and pumped full of buckshot, the drake ceases to even twitch. ]
Fuck.
[ The word somehow feels too loud in the wake of all that gunfire. Alec has to play it up a little, groaning as he gets to his feet. ]
That could've gone better.
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Rufus realizes that he's catching his breath once the silence finally settles in the area. The offended drake is very much dead, staining the ground with her blood, but Rufus' body is still grappled with adrenaline, and he has to force himself to lower his gun arm after a few seconds pass.]
Job's a success, no matter how you look at it.
[Yeah, it was a shitshow, but it was a successful shitshow, and Rufus' battered pride won't allow for it to be perceived in any other way. He turns to face Alec, shoulder bloodied and numb, while the rest of him begins to throb with pain.]
Guess I should thank you.
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[ Alec leans heavily on the wall of debris he'd just slammed into. Even with his Enhancements up, he'd been real lucky that there hadn't been any jagged bits of metal or rusted rebar sticking out of that mess. Magic will only do so much against stabbing.
For being a disaster, the last few moments were certainly filled with little miracles.
He takes a moment to look Rufus over. He's still bleeding everywhere, and that arm of his doesn't seem to be in great shape. He'll come down off the adrenaline soon enough and the pain will really set in. ]
For what? Catching you? I didn't have much of a choice.
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For throwing me my gun. But if you don't want the gratitude, that's fine by me.
[He moves to holster his shotgun, trying not to wince the entire time. Rufus then moves closer to Alec, his steps a little uneven, and feeling like his joints just went through hell and back. He ignores the blood; it might be nasty to look at it, but the drake missed anything important, and so-]
I take it you're uninjured? Because we've got a reward to pick up now.
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[ Alec keeps his eyes on Rufus, watching his every movement. Yeah, he's in a bad way, battered and bruised and, oh yeah, still bleeding. Rufus might be trying not to wince, so Alec winces for him, and that really annoying conscience of his rears its ugly head.
It's entirely Rufus' fault for rushing in, but perhaps if Alec had been a bit more accommodating, a bit more helpful, he might have slowed down a bit.
That's a dangerous line of thinking, but there it is all the same. ]
Shit, Junior. At least take a minute to stop bleeding all over the place. Let's get you patched up first, then you can get your money.
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[He’s sure he’s not gushing blood, not a wound that’ll be a hindrance in getting him to point A to point B. Especially when point B is getting paid for his work — an important foundation of living income for the days to come.
The pain will come soon, he knows it. Once the rush of a fight fades, its going to be a little harder to use that arm of his, and he’d rather not deal with one more difficulty right now. Not yet.
That, and he doesn’t need to be pitied.]
My shoulder’s injured, not my leg. I can walk, and I want to pick up the reward I’ve earned while I still can.
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Okay, so you're not bleeding out, but you are bleeding. On my clothes. Which are now ruined.
[ This is absolutely about his stuff and not about any kind of concern for Rufus' well-being. Yup. ]
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I'll buy you new set.
[Seriously.]
You that concerned for my well-being?
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[ Which is not entirely untrue, but some part of him still feels like he should have been a bit more helpful instead of throwing Rufus straight to the proverbial wolves. He fared well, all things considered, but that could have gone so much worse. ]
But you're the boss. Go on, walk it off and collect your gil. I won't stop you.
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dusts this off...no obligation to continue if you don't wanna!
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