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Viewing Single Post From: Say it with Firecrackers!
Fenrir
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Biting The Hand That Feeds
[ *  *  *  * ]
The chair hit its mark and Michael dropped almost as soon as he made it into the room, which bought Aaron enough time to pull the derringer free of his pocket, without having to worry about Michael getting too close while he fumbled to fit his hand around the small gun. By the time Michael's eyes managed to focus on him again Aaron had the gun pointed directly at his head, finger resting carelessly on the trigger of the unloaded and harmless weapon.

That was definitely a wooden shield Michael had on his arm; thick and heavy looking with a metal band around the outside, it could probably do a lot of damage if he swung it at someone. It would probably stop whatever puny bullets the thing in his hand fired as well, not that it mattered in this case, but hopefully Michael wouldn't figure that out. The heavy chain in his other hand was also a worry, but less than the shield; it was an interesting combo though, with the leather jacket it was like Braveheart had joined a motorcycle gang.

Cursing internally as another person appeared in the doorway, Aaron was careful to keep the derringer pointed at Michael as he moved his gaze up to see who it was. A girl he didn't recognise, pressummably Scarlett, entered the warehouse; brown haired and considerably shorter than either him or Michael, the thing that most grabbed Aaron's attention about her was the glint of light off of the sharp metal spike gripped in her hand.

Though his gut reaction was to point the gun at the new arrival, he deliberately keep it directed at Michael instead; after all, even though he was still on the ground Michael was the one who had come barrelling in here looking for a fight, Scarlett had only followed him in. If anyone was going to try and attack him now it was going to be Michael. Instead he keep his eyes pinned on Scarlett's, trying to judge what she was thinking and making it very clear he was keeping on eye on her, while still trying to watch Michael out of the corner of his eye.

It took an effort to keep his face straight, to not give away how nervous he was. This situation was now beyond fucked, well past the point of salvageability, but he seemed to have achieved a kind of upper hand with his sudden attack and by pulling a gun. As long as he kept Michael back he didn't think Scarlett would try anything either. All he had to do was hold them both at bay while Sebastien and Kitty kept trying to open the door so they could all leave; after that these two could have the damn warehouse to themselves and him and the others could try their luck somewhere else.

A sudden shout from Michael caught him off guard and Aaron squeezed the trigger on his pea shooter instinctively, screaming inside his head at how lucky he was the thing wasn't actually loaded. Michael rose from the ground, leaving his shield behind him as he dove towards Scarlett.

Exhaling a sigh of relief Aaron moved his gun to follow Michael. If his biggest worry wanted to disarm himself and tackle his second biggest worry to the ground for him he wasn't going to complain.

A sound like a thunderclap directly in Aaron's ear shook his world, but not as much as the hot lump of metal that tore open his chest. As he fell backwards he caught a glimpse of another figure outlined in the doorway, Aaron belatedly remembering that there was a third person outside.

He hit the ground without really noticing, aside from a vague sense of coming to a stop. There was no pain, the was no pain anywhere. He felt like there should have been.

The bullet had struck him low in the chest and to his right, tearing through flesh, shattering bone and ripping its way through his heart and out his back. A wide pool of blood had already formed under Aaron and had spread out to cover most of his chest and stomach. But there was no pain, just a feeling of deep, pervading coldness. Everything else was numbness. And tiredness.

Aaron tried to lift his head, or thought about it at least, but couldn't even find the energy to do that. So tired. Was his vision going dark? Or was he just closing his eyes, to tired to even hold the lids open?

B21: AARON CHALMERS: DECEASED
Program V3 Prologue
Michael Bair - Proud to be an American
Quote: N/A
Weapon: Brass Knuckles
Location: N/A
Status: Alive

The Departed
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Say it with Firecrackers! · The Old Warehouse (DANGER ZONE)
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