[ If Sunday's firm grim bothers Six at all, he doesn't mention it. There's something visceral about the fear that he can sense from the other man— almost familiar, he thinks. Similar to the kind he dreams about against his will.
But that's neither here nor there, not when a murder of crows nearly is upon them. ]
I've dealt with worse. Stay here.
[ Maybe he's being too overconfident, but he still remains one of Phantagrande skydom's strongest fighters, so birds should give him no trouble at all. Or so he hopes.
He doesn't say anything more as he closes the bathroom door, leaving the bungalow to meet the angry creatures head-on. It's a fight that barely counts as one, because as feral as the birds are right now, he makes quick work of them nonetheless. Without his weapons, he only has his hands and body, ripping apart what he could reach, crushing what he couldn't.
He hates this feeling. It's too similar to what happened long ago, but he smothers that thought before it blooms into something worse, focusing on the task at hand.
He takes out every single one of the birds until they're all gone. They glitch out of existence, as if they were never there to begin with, but the scratches and cuts are still there on his person. Even his mask has been taken apart, but he can always fix that later.
His fingers rap at the bathroom door. He doesn't move to open it. ]
no subject
But that's neither here nor there, not when a murder of crows nearly is upon them. ]
I've dealt with worse. Stay here.
[ Maybe he's being too overconfident, but he still remains one of Phantagrande skydom's strongest fighters, so birds should give him no trouble at all. Or so he hopes.
He doesn't say anything more as he closes the bathroom door, leaving the bungalow to meet the angry creatures head-on. It's a fight that barely counts as one, because as feral as the birds are right now, he makes quick work of them nonetheless. Without his weapons, he only has his hands and body, ripping apart what he could reach, crushing what he couldn't.
He hates this feeling. It's too similar to what happened long ago, but he smothers that thought before it blooms into something worse, focusing on the task at hand.
He takes out every single one of the birds until they're all gone. They glitch out of existence, as if they were never there to begin with, but the scratches and cuts are still there on his person. Even his mask has been taken apart, but he can always fix that later.
His fingers rap at the bathroom door. He doesn't move to open it. ]
... It's safe now.