12-12-2015, 10:21 AM
Ballad remained perfectly silent, having lowered his revolver within the short time it took for the kid to finish his rant. Part of that was probably due to the fact that the kid had just spoken with two voices. Something that he was certain was due to some kind of magic he didn't know about as of yet. Though the other part was due to the fact that the kid had more or less identified the gun in his hand. He had snapped his head down to look at his weapon when he heard the gangster kid call it a revolver. He could swear the kid noticed the shock in his eyes when he did that.
But it wasn't just that, or was it? The gunsmith registered that the kid had been through a whole lot. Lost his parents, been persecuted numerous times by Nazis (whatever the hell they were,) and had practically been living through pain his whole life. Part of him wanted to shout at him for interrupting him so rudely, but the other half- the stronger half, kept his trap shut. He didn't understand why, but the way the kid talked to him. About, well, everything.. reminded him a whole lot of-
Ballad clenched his eyes shut, not daring to think about it. He shook his head several times, raising his revolver again. The persecuted person was facing the ground, though the gunslinger could see flashes of violet through the locks of his night hair. Tears were still streaming down his face, though he made little noise aside from the occasional sniffle. The green man kept his grip tight on the gun, pointing it at the kid. His index finger started to pull back on the trigger as an almost evil look crossed Ballad's face. However, before he could even get close to pulling the trigger, his hands started to shake like they had been afflicted by frostbite. He looked away from the kid several times, only to glance back, with each movement failing to subside his shudders.
Eventually, he squeezed the trigger, a loud bang erupting from the field and traveling throughout the forest.
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Koal Lynch had closed his eyes as soon as he saw the gunner unsteadily re-aim his tool of destruction, pointing it at his head from a few feet away. He let in a sharp intake of breath, bracing himself for his demise.
A loud bang shook his ears, but he felt no pain. No sharp prick of burning, hot lead puncturing his skin and into his organs. He reopened his eyes, coming across a peculiar sight.
The sharpshooter was simply standing there, eyes closed with his face pointed downwards. In his right hand was a smoking gun, which was pointing upwards into the morning sky. The man was totally silent for a good minute or so, and Lynch did not dare move an inch from where he was standing. Eventually, the man looked back up towards the kid, the glow dimming from his eyes as his eyebrows seemed to raise up a bit from their stationary position.
"I'm sorry, kid. I.. I didn't know." croaked the winter soldier, before slithering his gun towards the inside of his jacket, turning around to prevent Lynch from making any real eye contact with the man in green.
But it wasn't just that, or was it? The gunsmith registered that the kid had been through a whole lot. Lost his parents, been persecuted numerous times by Nazis (whatever the hell they were,) and had practically been living through pain his whole life. Part of him wanted to shout at him for interrupting him so rudely, but the other half- the stronger half, kept his trap shut. He didn't understand why, but the way the kid talked to him. About, well, everything.. reminded him a whole lot of-
Ballad clenched his eyes shut, not daring to think about it. He shook his head several times, raising his revolver again. The persecuted person was facing the ground, though the gunslinger could see flashes of violet through the locks of his night hair. Tears were still streaming down his face, though he made little noise aside from the occasional sniffle. The green man kept his grip tight on the gun, pointing it at the kid. His index finger started to pull back on the trigger as an almost evil look crossed Ballad's face. However, before he could even get close to pulling the trigger, his hands started to shake like they had been afflicted by frostbite. He looked away from the kid several times, only to glance back, with each movement failing to subside his shudders.
Eventually, he squeezed the trigger, a loud bang erupting from the field and traveling throughout the forest.
--------------------------------------------------------
Koal Lynch had closed his eyes as soon as he saw the gunner unsteadily re-aim his tool of destruction, pointing it at his head from a few feet away. He let in a sharp intake of breath, bracing himself for his demise.
A loud bang shook his ears, but he felt no pain. No sharp prick of burning, hot lead puncturing his skin and into his organs. He reopened his eyes, coming across a peculiar sight.
The sharpshooter was simply standing there, eyes closed with his face pointed downwards. In his right hand was a smoking gun, which was pointing upwards into the morning sky. The man was totally silent for a good minute or so, and Lynch did not dare move an inch from where he was standing. Eventually, the man looked back up towards the kid, the glow dimming from his eyes as his eyebrows seemed to raise up a bit from their stationary position.
"I'm sorry, kid. I.. I didn't know." croaked the winter soldier, before slithering his gun towards the inside of his jacket, turning around to prevent Lynch from making any real eye contact with the man in green.
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