10-02-2015, 07:46 AM
Faygo. Seriously. The fuck.
Sparing a look down at the pineapple stain on his chest, Adam's expression briefly flashes to one of intense "are you serious" before darting back up to look at Gamzee....only to find himself staring down a face full of crazy, now waaaaay too close for comfort. Adam doesn't even have time to let out an "OH FUCK" of pure terror, merely swinging his arm up to intercept the blow coming for his head. If he'd been caught less off guard he might have seen the switchup coming as the clubs veer off course, whizzing up and over his head, leaving the confused young man only enough time to blink before--
"BWECH!" A gut full of club. It was only his natural reaction, ingrained over many long years of running the fuck away from things that caused him pain, that saved him from earning a face full of clown in the most unpleasant way possible. Jerking back from the pain of the impact, he floated unsteadily away from Gamzee, his free hand now clutching desperately at the point of impact as if that would somehow do something to alleviate the pain, and keeping a wide-eyed stare fixated on the clown, realizing too late he may have just unintentionally and altogether unexpectedly avoided getting possibly gored by troll horns.
That sobering thought in mind, Adam brings his cleverly-concealed rifle to bear in a blur of motion, the ache in his chest making his aim unsteady with only one hand, but the relatively short distance assisting his aim as much as anything. A quick pull of the trigger and the air is suddenly full of the hiss of bright red laser aimed directly at the fucking honk fiend's face.
Meanwhile his left hand had dove into and rooted through his pockets, searching for something in a rather desperate manner, the still-present look that could have been either terror or just good old-fashioned adrenaline remained firmly locked on Gamzee. Being caught off guard once by not paying attention was bad enough. It had felt like he'd been hit with a hammer, even with the awkward angle of the blow, he had no intention what so ever of taking a hit like that full-on. He rather liked his bones not broken.
Continuing to fish through his pockets, he kept his ever so slightly wavering sights trained on the predatory troll, firing a second shot just as his free hand finally finds what he's been looking for. A completely unnecessary flourish reveals the shining casing of his brand new weapon, and a flick of the finger activates it. And the red blade of energy that it produces positively sizzles as the cold air and snow protests against its presence.
Now he had a chance if those clubs came for him again. Hopefully.
Sparing a look down at the pineapple stain on his chest, Adam's expression briefly flashes to one of intense "are you serious" before darting back up to look at Gamzee....only to find himself staring down a face full of crazy, now waaaaay too close for comfort. Adam doesn't even have time to let out an "OH FUCK" of pure terror, merely swinging his arm up to intercept the blow coming for his head. If he'd been caught less off guard he might have seen the switchup coming as the clubs veer off course, whizzing up and over his head, leaving the confused young man only enough time to blink before--
"BWECH!" A gut full of club. It was only his natural reaction, ingrained over many long years of running the fuck away from things that caused him pain, that saved him from earning a face full of clown in the most unpleasant way possible. Jerking back from the pain of the impact, he floated unsteadily away from Gamzee, his free hand now clutching desperately at the point of impact as if that would somehow do something to alleviate the pain, and keeping a wide-eyed stare fixated on the clown, realizing too late he may have just unintentionally and altogether unexpectedly avoided getting possibly gored by troll horns.
That sobering thought in mind, Adam brings his cleverly-concealed rifle to bear in a blur of motion, the ache in his chest making his aim unsteady with only one hand, but the relatively short distance assisting his aim as much as anything. A quick pull of the trigger and the air is suddenly full of the hiss of bright red laser aimed directly at the fucking honk fiend's face.
Meanwhile his left hand had dove into and rooted through his pockets, searching for something in a rather desperate manner, the still-present look that could have been either terror or just good old-fashioned adrenaline remained firmly locked on Gamzee. Being caught off guard once by not paying attention was bad enough. It had felt like he'd been hit with a hammer, even with the awkward angle of the blow, he had no intention what so ever of taking a hit like that full-on. He rather liked his bones not broken.
Continuing to fish through his pockets, he kept his ever so slightly wavering sights trained on the predatory troll, firing a second shot just as his free hand finally finds what he's been looking for. A completely unnecessary flourish reveals the shining casing of his brand new weapon, and a flick of the finger activates it. And the red blade of energy that it produces positively sizzles as the cold air and snow protests against its presence.
Now he had a chance if those clubs came for him again. Hopefully.
![[Image: kUpgBYg.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/kUpgBYg.gif)