[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.
My father might show some concern if I had died, but he won’t so much as blink if he learns about a flesh wound. So stop worrying.
[Though most wouldn’t consider Rufus’ injury a mere flesh wound, that’s about as serious as he wishes to treat it for now. Stubbornness has him walking past Alec, back down the way they came, with the expectation that he follow.]
Come on.
[And to his credit, he moves without incident. Ignoring his shoulder, squeezing past the crowded alleyways and over fallen debris, Rufus’ gait is misleading — it implies that he might be just fine until they pick up the reward and that a little healing magic is all it’ll take to patch him up afterward, easy as you please.
It’s not until they’re a handful of yards away from the entrance gate — the two men still stationed there —that he has to stop, grimacing, the pain suddenly sharp and shooting. It feels like someone had flipped a switch, and whatever force was deadening his nerves up until now was banished. The soreness and pain seep in, envelop him, and he finds himself gripping his shoulder, stopping and leaning against the frame of an old, rusted car long abandoned.]
[ Alec already said he wouldn't stop Rufus, and he doesn't. To Junior's credit, he nearly makes it, but all the while, Alec stays a handful of paces behind, eyes on the bloodied gash in Rufus' shoulder and the man himself. Adrenaline is a hell of a thing, and Alec knows it well - he also knows what it feels like when it's gone, and all the aches and scrapes and mistakes of the previous battle suddenly make themselves known.
Sometimes he can grit his teeth and bear it, sometimes he can't.
This must be one of those "can't" times. Pain tenses Rufus' entire frame, and he seeks out the first thing he can for support. Alec closes the gap between them, moving to Rufus' injured side to try again to peer at the wound. ]
Worse than you thought, eh chief?
[ Alec hadn't been prepared for a jaunt into the more wild part of the slums, his little stock of potions and other first aid items left behind at home in favor of a change of clothes. Now he knows better. ]
[The way it’s spoken, roughly through gritted teeth, might actually inform Alec that, no, he’s not fine. The pain in his shoulder is like someone’s stuck a knife into it, and every time it so much as moves, that same blade might as well be twisting. The rest of his body is sending its unwanted alarms careening through him, too — bruises where he’d collided into Alec, or where the largest of the drakes gripped talons into his ankle, the tips puncturing skin. That isn’t accounting for the sore muscles that’ll complain tomorrow, after having been twisted to and fro mid-air like a rag doll.
But yeah. He’s fine.
He pushes himself off the car, hand pressing into his shoulder this time, forcing his walk to the gate. The men, obviously worried upon seeing the man who had passed not that long ago returning bloodied, frown when they see them. One of them pipes up again.
Hey! Your friend looks like he could use a hand! We told you those drakes were nasty business!]
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finalflight2020-04-22 12:49 pm
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[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.
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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.]
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[ 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! ]
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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. ]
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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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[Though most wouldn’t consider Rufus’ injury a mere flesh wound, that’s about as serious as he wishes to treat it for now. Stubbornness has him walking past Alec, back down the way they came, with the expectation that he follow.]
Come on.
[And to his credit, he moves without incident. Ignoring his shoulder, squeezing past the crowded alleyways and over fallen debris, Rufus’ gait is misleading — it implies that he might be just fine until they pick up the reward and that a little healing magic is all it’ll take to patch him up afterward, easy as you please.
It’s not until they’re a handful of yards away from the entrance gate — the two men still stationed there —that he has to stop, grimacing, the pain suddenly sharp and shooting. It feels like someone had flipped a switch, and whatever force was deadening his nerves up until now was banished. The soreness and pain seep in, envelop him, and he finds himself gripping his shoulder, stopping and leaning against the frame of an old, rusted car long abandoned.]
Shit.
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Sometimes he can grit his teeth and bear it, sometimes he can't.
This must be one of those "can't" times. Pain tenses Rufus' entire frame, and he seeks out the first thing he can for support. Alec closes the gap between them, moving to Rufus' injured side to try again to peer at the wound. ]
Worse than you thought, eh chief?
[ Alec hadn't been prepared for a jaunt into the more wild part of the slums, his little stock of potions and other first aid items left behind at home in favor of a change of clothes. Now he knows better. ]
Can you make it? We're almost home free.
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[The way it’s spoken, roughly through gritted teeth, might actually inform Alec that, no, he’s not fine. The pain in his shoulder is like someone’s stuck a knife into it, and every time it so much as moves, that same blade might as well be twisting. The rest of his body is sending its unwanted alarms careening through him, too — bruises where he’d collided into Alec, or where the largest of the drakes gripped talons into his ankle, the tips puncturing skin. That isn’t accounting for the sore muscles that’ll complain tomorrow, after having been twisted to and fro mid-air like a rag doll.
But yeah. He’s fine.
He pushes himself off the car, hand pressing into his shoulder this time, forcing his walk to the gate. The men, obviously worried upon seeing the man who had passed not that long ago returning bloodied, frown when they see them. One of them pipes up again.
Hey! Your friend looks like he could use a hand! We told you those drakes were nasty business!]
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dusts this off...no obligation to continue if you don't wanna!
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