The boy pauses at the shout, surprise across his face. It was the first time he'd heard a human voice outside the communicatorythingwhateverthehellitis today. And you were being loud. Really, really loud. No one outshouts the Teutonic Order, man. No one.
The boy opens his mouth to retort, but then notices the red light on his shirt. Unfortunately, he won't be able to turn this conversation into a shouting match, due to the complete bewilderment, followed by absolute terror he expresses when seeing the red.
"D-Did you stab me when I wasn't looking...?" You can almost hear the tears in his voice. His hand slowly raises to his chest to poke at his new found "wound."
And is completely surprised (yet again) when he finds it's not blood. In fact, it's now on his hand (as he waves it in front of the bead). And now on his shirt. And on his hand. And on his shirt. And on his hand. And on his shirt.
"Wh-What the hell is this?!" He'll still be waving his hand back and forth, amazed every time the light shifts locations.
(( OOC: Yup! He's the Monastic State of the Teutonic Knights from the 1240s. And thank you! <3 ))
The blond keeps the gun steady- had the young man held still, he may have realized that the red dot didn't move. The agent had a steady hand... and excellent aim.
As soon as the realization that the person in his sights was neither ghost nor adult, his tone softened a bit. But only a bit.
"I would not stab you, young man." His finger moves a hair's breadth away from the trigger. "May I request a reason for why you would be lurking in this stairwell? And please, lower the sword, or I will be forced to disarm you."
The agent wasn't too sure about this platinum-haired youth, who flung himself at him shouting and wielding a sword. He was certain, however, that he was going to keep his aim on the young man until he was absolutely certain who-- and what -- he was.
The boy opens his mouth to retort, but then notices the red light on his shirt. Unfortunately, he won't be able to turn this conversation into a shouting match, due to the complete bewilderment, followed by absolute terror he expresses when seeing the red.
"D-Did you stab me when I wasn't looking...?" You can almost hear the tears in his voice. His hand slowly raises to his chest to poke at his new found "wound."
And is completely surprised (yet again) when he finds it's not blood. In fact, it's now on his hand (as he waves it in front of the bead). And now on his shirt. And on his hand. And on his shirt. And on his hand. And on his shirt.
"Wh-What the hell is this?!" He'll still be waving his hand back and forth, amazed every time the light shifts locations.
(( OOC: Yup! He's the Monastic State of the Teutonic Knights from the 1240s. And thank you! <3 ))
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As soon as the realization that the person in his sights was neither ghost nor adult, his tone softened a bit. But only a bit.
"I would not stab you, young man." His finger moves a hair's breadth away from the trigger. "May I request a reason for why you would be lurking in this stairwell? And please, lower the sword, or I will be forced to disarm you."
The agent wasn't too sure about this platinum-haired youth, who flung himself at him shouting and wielding a sword. He was certain, however, that he was going to keep his aim on the young man until he was absolutely certain who-- and what -- he was.
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