(no subject)

[pop-goesweasel.livejournal.com]

Always more work to do. Always.

Comments

[pop-goesweasel.livejournal.com]

[He falls, a short yell escaping him as his foot starts to bleed. He swears and reaches for his gun, still on the ground. He aims it at her, firing for her hand. Best to disarm her, after all.]

[angel-not-saint.livejournal.com]

[Oh hell no, she just narrowly avoids that shot before firing another, this one aimed at a more critical part of Popov's anatomy. Could be his heart, could be his balls. Guess it all depends on what he finds critical.]

[pop-goesweasel.livejournal.com]

[He rolls away, firing another shot completely wild. Another string of swearing escapes him as he struggles back to standing, not able to put full weight on his left foot.]

Stupid girl!

[angel-not-saint.livejournal.com]

[She's smirking. Completely proud of herself. She gave him the option to leave after all. See what happens when you don't...fuck! The wild shot grazes her shoulder, searing through her skin as blood begins to soak through her clothes. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. It's time to abort mission. But not before she gets another two rounds off -- still firing as she slinks backwards towards an alley.]

[pop-goesweasel.livejournal.com]

[He has the slight satisfaction of causing her to retreat first, managing to duck behind a car to avoid the two shots as she runs off towards the alley. But who was that wild little girl? And where did she learn to shot like that?]