He hears steps. Clip, clip, clip. Not like the bare feet of pagans in the woods, or even the ghostly glide of the apartment's haunts. No, it was the sound of someone moving quickly towards his position.
See, kiddies, this is where Fight or Flight sets in. After wandering around the building for days, trying to hunt out the demon causing all this madness, the little Teutonic Order was on edge. He had been busy lashing out at every creaking step, every perceived whisper, and every shadow (including his own) a few more times than necessary during these past few days, and when hearing the steps from the stairs, he felt his little body tense.
Fight or Flight?
We're dealing with a crusading order of knights. What the hell do you think is the answer?
Hint: It's not Flight.
Pulling out his sword (covered in red tape), he shouts:
"HEY, IF YOU'RE A DEMON, I'M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS."
Because, obviously yelling threats at scary things is the best solution.
The agent was fast to draw a bead on the young man, the red dot of light hovering on the white cloth of his shirt. Or was it a cape? The pale-haired agent wasn't taking the time to tell.
"FBI! Identify yourself!" His voice was strong and firm, and his finger was more than ready to squeeze the trigger to its deadliest point. The beautiful firearm glinted in the flickering light of the stairwell, the silvery sheen somehow managing to match the glint in the man's eyes.
[[OOC: You're playing a Hetalia character, right~~? He's adorable!]]
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.
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.
He'd decided to go exploring, snagging a few books and items for his apartment while he did so. However, distractions happened, and even Hayden had learned the futility of trying to shoot the ghosts. He raised an eyebrow at the new person, then casually kicked the wadded up tape at the ghost. It hit, and the thing flinched back, turning towards Hayden and coming at him with a hateful gleam in it's eyes.
Until he slapped tape down on it. While his fingers might curve slightly into ghostly 'flesh' the tape never did, and the ghost staggered away and down the hall, tearing frantically at the tape. He turned to Penderghast, eyes blank.
"New, I take it?" Hayden'd almost completely forgotten most new people didn't take well to him, given his unique, virus infected arm, and the fact that he screamed 'predator' no matter how kind and gentle he was being.
[ooc: Hi! So, I'm guessing that this will coincide with Pendergast's altercation with the Teutonic Order?]
He managed not to jump at the sudden sound behind him, his good training and calm mind keeping him from twitching his finger on the trigger and blowing a hole through the little boy standing in front of him.
He wasn't entirely sure what to do about the new person, the quick look he'd taken at revealing rather strange looking man; but he'd long ago learned not to pass judgement before he'd had a chance to 'read' him.
"Identify yourself!" His voice was calm, his New Orleans accent hanging heavy in them. He didn't turn; he hadn't seen a weapon. But he was still wary, ready to switch his aim to the new arrival at a moment's notice.
(( OOC: As will I, if that's acceptable. If not, I can just delete my response here? ))
"You totally just wasted that tape!" Is, of course, the Order's first response when seeing this new guy enter on the scene. Because, in all honesty, that was just being the opposite of frugal, man. What if there was a famine? Or a drought? Or the pagans stole all your supplies? WHAT THEN, HUH? You'd be trapped without your sticky crucifix, that's what. And, well, we don't want to imagine what would happen then.
So, I'll promptly move to the boy's second response (since the red dot has lost its initial awesome factor):
"I'm not lowering my sword until I know that you guys are Christians and aren't here to boil me alive or whatever." Reasonable enough, right?
At that point, the agent lowered his gun a notch. "I am, in the best description, a Christian."
His tone took on a buttery drawl, a smile turning up the corners of his lips in an appealing fashion. "Would you mind lowering that sword, young man?"
[OOC: He's so adorable. My husband is a history major and when I read him your comment, he busted up laughing and then informed me "That's very accurate. Careful, the pagans will take your shoes!"]
Comments 10
See, kiddies, this is where Fight or Flight sets in. After wandering around the building for days, trying to hunt out the demon causing all this madness, the little Teutonic Order was on edge. He had been busy lashing out at every creaking step, every perceived whisper, and every shadow (including his own) a few more times than necessary during these past few days, and when hearing the steps from the stairs, he felt his little body tense.
Fight or Flight?
We're dealing with a crusading order of knights. What the hell do you think is the answer?
Hint: It's not Flight.
Pulling out his sword (covered in red tape), he shouts:
"HEY, IF YOU'RE A DEMON, I'M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS."
Because, obviously yelling threats at scary things is the best solution.
Reply
"FBI! Identify yourself!" His voice was strong and firm, and his finger was more than ready to squeeze the trigger to its deadliest point. The beautiful firearm glinted in the flickering light of the stairwell, the silvery sheen somehow managing to match the glint in the man's eyes.
[[OOC: You're playing a Hetalia character, right~~? He's adorable!]]
Reply
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 ( ... )
Reply
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.
Reply
Until he slapped tape down on it. While his fingers might curve slightly into ghostly 'flesh' the tape never did, and the ghost staggered away and down the hall, tearing frantically at the tape. He turned to Penderghast, eyes blank.
"New, I take it?" Hayden'd almost completely forgotten most new people didn't take well to him, given his unique, virus infected arm, and the fact that he screamed 'predator' no matter how kind and gentle he was being.
Reply
He managed not to jump at the sudden sound behind him, his good training and calm mind keeping him from twitching his finger on the trigger and blowing a hole through the little boy standing in front of him.
He wasn't entirely sure what to do about the new person, the quick look he'd taken at revealing rather strange looking man; but he'd long ago learned not to pass judgement before he'd had a chance to 'read' him.
"Identify yourself!" His voice was calm, his New Orleans accent hanging heavy in them. He didn't turn; he hadn't seen a weapon. But he was still wary, ready to switch his aim to the new arrival at a moment's notice.
Reply
"You totally just wasted that tape!" Is, of course, the Order's first response when seeing this new guy enter on the scene. Because, in all honesty, that was just being the opposite of frugal, man. What if there was a famine? Or a drought? Or the pagans stole all your supplies? WHAT THEN, HUH? You'd be trapped without your sticky crucifix, that's what. And, well, we don't want to imagine what would happen then.
So, I'll promptly move to the boy's second response (since the red dot has lost its initial awesome factor):
"I'm not lowering my sword until I know that you guys are Christians and aren't here to boil me alive or whatever." Reasonable enough, right?
Reply
His tone took on a buttery drawl, a smile turning up the corners of his lips in an appealing fashion. "Would you mind lowering that sword, young man?"
[OOC: He's so adorable. My husband is a history major and when I read him your comment, he busted up laughing and then informed me "That's very accurate. Careful, the pagans will take your shoes!"]
Reply
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