Noctis presses his back against the large column, gritting his teeth against all the chaos, still feeling the residual heat of what he believes was probably something akin to a laser beam blasting past. Figures that a scouting mission would have escalated into a literal explosion, but he can't say he's surprised. The tension had been thick ever since they entered, to the point where Noct felt needlessly tense even before everything turned pear-shaped. And now, it appeared that the proverbial rubber band had snapped, and here he is, pinned against a column with Gladio beside him.]
Been in worse situations.
[The reply is wry but nonetheless true. Still, Noctis reaches up to remove his ridiculous masquerade mask he had been wearing — gold and ostentatious, decorated to the brim with delicate filigree. It had been obscuring his perisperhal vision and poking into his cheekbones, so he’s glad to be rid of it, tossing it to the ground without much care.
He’s bold enough to peek around their cover, only briefly, but long enough to catch a glance at the surrounding chaos. There are already a fair amount of alien bodies crumpled to the ground, rancid blood pooling around them. An exchange of fire takes place farther back, though a stray laser hits the column rather close to Noct’s face, which prompts him to shrink back to safety rather quickly.
He opens his mouth to say something, but stops when he catches glance of Gladio grabbing hold of a table leg.]
Gonna knock them out with a table? [Table leg, Noct. Table leg.
He extends an arm, calling forth with his magic a hulking greatsword that he had acquired from a previous mission. (By now he has a small collection going, tucked away with his magic; he figures it can't hurt, and in situations like this, he's proven right.) It appears in its usual fanfare of crystalline blue light, a sight that should obviously be rather mundane to Gladio.]
How about an upgrade? [He offers the weapon to him.]
slams in here with II.....tho wildcard space cup noodles was tempting too
Noctis presses his back against the large column, gritting his teeth against all the chaos, still feeling the residual heat of what he believes was probably something akin to a laser beam blasting past. Figures that a scouting mission would have escalated into a literal explosion, but he can't say he's surprised. The tension had been thick ever since they entered, to the point where Noct felt needlessly tense even before everything turned pear-shaped. And now, it appeared that the proverbial rubber band had snapped, and here he is, pinned against a column with Gladio beside him.]
Been in worse situations.
[The reply is wry but nonetheless true. Still, Noctis reaches up to remove his ridiculous masquerade mask he had been wearing — gold and ostentatious, decorated to the brim with delicate filigree. It had been obscuring his perisperhal vision and poking into his cheekbones, so he’s glad to be rid of it, tossing it to the ground without much care.
He’s bold enough to peek around their cover, only briefly, but long enough to catch a glance at the surrounding chaos. There are already a fair amount of alien bodies crumpled to the ground, rancid blood pooling around them. An exchange of fire takes place farther back, though a stray laser hits the column rather close to Noct’s face, which prompts him to shrink back to safety rather quickly.
He opens his mouth to say something, but stops when he catches glance of Gladio grabbing hold of a table leg.]
Gonna knock them out with a table? [Table leg, Noct. Table leg.
He extends an arm, calling forth with his magic a hulking greatsword that he had acquired from a previous mission. (By now he has a small collection going, tucked away with his magic; he figures it can't hurt, and in situations like this, he's proven right.) It appears in its usual fanfare of crystalline blue light, a sight that should obviously be rather mundane to Gladio.]
How about an upgrade? [He offers the weapon to him.]