Post by Terminally Chill on Mar 11, 2011 15:53:23 GMT -5
Gavin watched with his usual clueless expression as he watched Noir's deadly combat stance slowly deteriorate into a bout of uncontrollable laughter. Unsure of exactly what to do, Gavin merely blinked a few times before his own stance gradually relaxed until he was simply standing and observing Noir with his guitar loosely gripped in hand. Scratching his head and looking to the suited swordsman with a puzzled gaze, attempting to figure out exactly what was so funny about the whole situation. Noir was very fast, and it was causing problems for the artistic duo. So why was asking the bounty hunter to cease his untraceable movements such an unreasonable request? However, the dark-haired man's laughter only continued in his amusement, to the point where he actually needed to lean on Gavin for support, to which the musician did not object. The minstrel's confusion grew at the same rate as Noir's fit of laughter, until finally, the swordsman put a halt to any such antics. Serious face. Serious silence.
“I don't get it, man...” mused Gavin, unable to reply in any other way as he watched the rhythmic burst of sparks Noir was displaying as he walked backward. Once again blinking a few times at the swordsman, the musician quickly realized that there would be little time for him to “get” anything at all. The inhumanly-fast warrior was already on the prowl once again. The same vague sense of movement that Gavin had felt before once again echoed across his senses with the presence of a ghost. By the time the drifter realized Noir had moved, it was too late. Gavin would not be as fortunate as he was in his first exchanged with the hired killer. Before he had any chance to even comprehend what was happening, a sudden burst of light exploded in front of his eyes. The unorthodox tactic quickly took effect, the eyesight of the musician suddenly blinded by a sheet of white.
“Damn it,” Gavin cursed under his breath, his hand quickly moving to clutch his eyes in some futile, delayed attempt to shield them from the blinding flash. The musician knew he was in trouble. His eyes had done little in aiding him against Noir thus far, but now the sense had temporary been taken from him. Gavin's separated his fingers, eyelids struggling to open in their attempt to peek through his hand. All that lay before the wanderer was a white haze. In the next second, Noir pounced on his blinded prey, the black blur of a man striking with his sheath.
The troubadour did not have a chance to brace himself for the impact. A sudden, searing pain struck him in the midsection, coursing through every inch of his body like a surge of electricity. Gavin felt the sheath of the swordsman bury itself into his abdomen, forcing his mouth to open and a few trails of saliva to involuntarily fly from the orifice, along with every bit of breath Gavin had in his body. The crushing blow ground farther into the minstrel's body until he was inevitable flung rocketing backwards from Noir.
Body cruelly tumbling and bouncing off the marble, Gavin's rag-doll momentum only ceased when he finally skipped up from the unyielding floor into the wall of the foyer. The musician's body remained there for a moment, a few cracks splintering through the granite before his back dragged downward against the wall and landed him in a sitting position on the ground. Noir had at least succeeded in Blanc's request for minimal damage to his Foyer. Body slumped forward and motionless, Gavin suddenly burst into a fit of coughing and gasping in an attempt to recover some of the air that had been ripped from his lungs. A hand clutching his abdomen, the battered guitarist looked out with blurred vision in front of him, then directing his faulty eyesight to what looked like the site where Jun had crashed into the wall.
“Jun, you okay, man?” Gavin asked in a hoarse voice, coughing a few more times after forcing the question from his throat. The situation was certainly looking bleak for the dynamic duo.
“I don't get it, man...” mused Gavin, unable to reply in any other way as he watched the rhythmic burst of sparks Noir was displaying as he walked backward. Once again blinking a few times at the swordsman, the musician quickly realized that there would be little time for him to “get” anything at all. The inhumanly-fast warrior was already on the prowl once again. The same vague sense of movement that Gavin had felt before once again echoed across his senses with the presence of a ghost. By the time the drifter realized Noir had moved, it was too late. Gavin would not be as fortunate as he was in his first exchanged with the hired killer. Before he had any chance to even comprehend what was happening, a sudden burst of light exploded in front of his eyes. The unorthodox tactic quickly took effect, the eyesight of the musician suddenly blinded by a sheet of white.
“Damn it,” Gavin cursed under his breath, his hand quickly moving to clutch his eyes in some futile, delayed attempt to shield them from the blinding flash. The musician knew he was in trouble. His eyes had done little in aiding him against Noir thus far, but now the sense had temporary been taken from him. Gavin's separated his fingers, eyelids struggling to open in their attempt to peek through his hand. All that lay before the wanderer was a white haze. In the next second, Noir pounced on his blinded prey, the black blur of a man striking with his sheath.
The troubadour did not have a chance to brace himself for the impact. A sudden, searing pain struck him in the midsection, coursing through every inch of his body like a surge of electricity. Gavin felt the sheath of the swordsman bury itself into his abdomen, forcing his mouth to open and a few trails of saliva to involuntarily fly from the orifice, along with every bit of breath Gavin had in his body. The crushing blow ground farther into the minstrel's body until he was inevitable flung rocketing backwards from Noir.
Body cruelly tumbling and bouncing off the marble, Gavin's rag-doll momentum only ceased when he finally skipped up from the unyielding floor into the wall of the foyer. The musician's body remained there for a moment, a few cracks splintering through the granite before his back dragged downward against the wall and landed him in a sitting position on the ground. Noir had at least succeeded in Blanc's request for minimal damage to his Foyer. Body slumped forward and motionless, Gavin suddenly burst into a fit of coughing and gasping in an attempt to recover some of the air that had been ripped from his lungs. A hand clutching his abdomen, the battered guitarist looked out with blurred vision in front of him, then directing his faulty eyesight to what looked like the site where Jun had crashed into the wall.
“Jun, you okay, man?” Gavin asked in a hoarse voice, coughing a few more times after forcing the question from his throat. The situation was certainly looking bleak for the dynamic duo.