Sure hope I'm tagging this right

[paridelicto]

Characters: Xelloss, Edgeworth, Grif and Sion.
Setting/Location: Some lucky inn!
Date & Time: Day 0, dawn.
Warnings: This is filthy, perverted stuff.
Summary: I have no idea how to summarize this!

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[paridelicto]

Now was not the time for idle conversation. Then again, when was? But this was rather more urgent than normal circumstances, as their need to escape was rather more pressing. Still, the dull throbbing at the back of Edgeworth's head made each thought come to him disconnected, essentially useless, questions tangled and without answer. Why had this person attacked him? For what purpose? What had distracted him from the attack, and would it be enough to maintain his distraction so that Edgeworth--and the man beside him--would be able to make their escape? What kind of armor was that?

And why was the man beside him talking to him as though they were companionable? That had not been pre-established; and even on the best of days Edgeworth was not the sort of man who greased any wheels. Unnecessary pleasantries were exactly that: unnecessary. He did not even find them particularly pleasant.

To begin with, he had to start with what he could establish.

"Do you know who he is?" Edgeworth hissed, voice quiet--not enough to distract the other two men: their attacker and the armored man who had interrupted. Perhaps he was with some kind of protective service. "And furthermore...who are you?"

[wheelwork]

Well, shit. The one (girl? guy? both? who knew anymore) doing the pinning turned her--his--its attention towards him. Grif wasn't sure how to feel about that, and he had all but a handful of seconds to figure it out before the stranger would complete the trip across the room. Whoever it was, they looked kind of... almost-pissed. Angry that Grif had ruined their bump and tumble time, no doubt. The real question was, did the guygirlthing plan on trying to hurt him (ppffff), or trying to throw him in to the manpile?

He wasn't sure. What he was sure of, though, was that any decision made by an androgynous loony stalking around in what appeared to be a hospital gown couldn't possibly be a good one.

"Yea, I don't think so," he insisted while quickly snatching the knob once more and yanking the door shut. Anything to stall his pursuer for a few seconds, right? From there, Grif turned and hightailed it in a show of true bravado.

[bytheking]

Pfff yourself, armorbo - er. Ahem.

He... almost saw that coming - if "almost" meant "not at all." Maybe he should have, and maybe he normally would have, but the important thing was that right now Sion had to stop else he run into that door. Once his foot hit the ground, he used it as an "anchor" point (of sorts) to do a half-turn and half-stop. From there he pressed his back up against the wall nearest to the door. He carefully threw said door open, looked out it (one side then the other. Sort of like crossing the street!), and moved partially into the hall once he felt it was clear. From this position he could see the armored man still making his escape; it was half-reassuring to know that if he left now, he could catch up - however the problem was his worried half. He wasn't in any condition to give chase. Sure, the armor seemed to slow the yellow orange man down, however that meant nothing. Neither did his poor running form. Even if Sion caught up, he'd have lost energy in the run. A lack of energy against an armored, armed opponent was a touch too reckless for his tastes, so for now Sion abandoned his gun-quest.

Too bad Sion didn't know what a coward his adversary was.

Sion winced as he "re-entered" the room. The stab wound briefly tried to remind him of its presence a second time, but he put it of his mind. There was little else he could do about it right now that hadn't already been done. That and he didn't want to be bogged down by thoughts of, "who bandaged me?", "did those people that man spoke of kidnap us?", "why would they bother to dress my wound?" and the like. For now, he needed a clear head; he could question everything when he was by himself (better yet, he could question someone with some answers).

Actually, wound and Kazuki aside, there was one thing he had been... neglecting. Something he didn't dare think about - and might not unless it was unavoidable. Denial? Maybe. He preferred to think of it as skepticism.

... after all, why would he -

Sion shook his head before concentrating on the room. Focus. He willed himself to follow that thought, forcing out anything else that wasn't immediately pertinent. Eventually, it worked.

With nothing more than a second glance at the two individuals he left on the ground, Sion walked over to the bed, grabbed one of the sheets, wrapped it around his body, and left. Staying here was a bad idea, hostages and potential information or not. He couldn't chance getting caught by anyone in armor again, nor could he chance taking one of the two with him.