the flare of chroma the blade appears in is all too familiar, and that much forces gustave to react, doing the exact same. in a swathe of gold light, a similar sword appears in his hand, and he is not as bold as pointing it towards the offenders between them, though it remains steady at his side—ready.
he has many questions, but they can wait—for after. right now, he tries to reason with the trio before this actually escalates. )
You are not well-equipped for this fight. Go, and we ( WE!! ) won't follow.
( that only seems to enrage the leader, who spits out a command to the other two, and gustave catches flashes of metal from under their coats; they, too, have weapons of some kind. it's but a matter of seconds, really— )
Fais attention, they have guns!
( which can prove, to them, a disadvantage, with just their swords. he curses not having his own gun at hand since arriving here; gustave quickly lunges forward, the hilt of his sword slamming against a moving arm, hitting the elbow, with enough force to dislocate it. a second tries to catch onto gustave by his shirt, topple him over; the third—the leader—aims for verso, instants from pulling the trigger. )
no subject
(just a little?)
the flare of chroma the blade appears in is all too familiar, and that much forces gustave to react, doing the exact same. in a swathe of gold light, a similar sword appears in his hand, and he is not as bold as pointing it towards the offenders between them, though it remains steady at his side—ready.
he has many questions, but they can wait—for after. right now, he tries to reason with the trio before this actually escalates. )
You are not well-equipped for this fight. Go, and we ( WE!! ) won't follow.
( that only seems to enrage the leader, who spits out a command to the other two, and gustave catches flashes of metal from under their coats; they, too, have weapons of some kind. it's but a matter of seconds, really— )
Fais attention, they have guns!
( which can prove, to them, a disadvantage, with just their swords. he curses not having his own gun at hand since arriving here; gustave quickly lunges forward, the hilt of his sword slamming against a moving arm, hitting the elbow, with enough force to dislocate it. a second tries to catch onto gustave by his shirt, topple him over; the third—the leader—aims for verso, instants from pulling the trigger. )