RO > call me out; a forever open RP post, version 2

[midvalley]

NEW OPEN RP POST

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[enraptored]

[ So much for no casualties in this little trip out. If they get caught, they're most definitely going to prison.

That thought gets shoved to the back of his head, though, because he saw the way Ian caught that bullet, and Owen tries to steady him, muttering a curse. And then Ian is darting away from him, despite Owen's aborted attempt at calling him back. He catches sight of Blue, who looks equal parts agitated and angry. She recognizes the sound of gunfire, remembers it from the night when that creature appeared and she lost her sisters. That noise meant danger and pain. And these men were aiming their strange weapons at her alpha, trying to hurt him. She lets out a screech, enraged, and speeds past Ian and his assailant; she tackles a third man emerging from the trail ahead who had been alerted by the sound of gunfire. She gores him before he has a chance to fire.

Owen has only a moment to register what the hell just happened, but when Ian drops to a knee, he springs into action, kneeling in front of him and putting his hands on the Raptori's shoulders to help him stay upright. ]

Shit. Let me see.

[wavewalker]

Stop your fussing. [ Ian holds out a hand, keeping Owen at a distance. ] I’ll be fine. I just need a moment.

[ He stays as he is a moment or two longer, hand pressed over his chest, until at last his breathing evens out. He pulls his hand away. His shirt is punctured and bloody, but the flesh beneath it is completely unscathed. ] What upon the earth do you people make your bullets out of?

[enraptored]

Lead. Coated in copper or steel, usually. [ That was probably a rhetorical question, Owen. But, given that Ian jus spontaneously heard himself, we'll cut him some slack. ]

What the hell just happened?

[wavewalker]

[ That was a rhetorical question, but nevertheless nice information to have. Ian gets to his feet, offering Owen a hand up. ]

I believe I shot at our friends and they shot back. Or did you mean-? [ he makes a vague gesture at his own chest. ] When you accept a job from the god of death, you’re not allowed to die until that job is finished. It’d be a decent enough perk, if not for how much knitting yourself back together hurts.

[enraptored]

... Right.

[ he misses the simpler times when walking past an Apatosaurus and clicker-training a squad of Velociraptors was the weirdest part of his day.

And speaking of his former squad, Blue approaches cautiously, blood dripping from her muzzle, and while Owen doesn't have a weak stomach for violence, he resolutely does not turn to see what became of the soldier she attacked. He at least hopes it was quick and painless. ]

I'm noticing your buddy still hasn't pulled you back home, by the way.