"Great, guess I didn't miss everything..."
Ven turned as Zion's Ray attack shot past him and sped towards Valos, resuming his heroic stance.
"Hey, you guys think you can fight the psychos outside of town?"
----
"I'll have another."
The shrouded figure sitting in the corner of the now roofless tavern flipped a gold coin across the room, where it landed on the half smashed bar, from which the barkeep slowly rose from his hiding place underneath. They were the only two left in the trashed building.
"Uhm... Coming right up..."
----
Vincent felt a very strange sensation over his body, unsure if it was a spell cast on him or just an effect of the loss of blood. He found that he could control the wings, which felt very foreign and awkward to him.
His vision blurring, he managed to glide safely downwards, away from the flames below and into a darker cobblestone alley. He landed somewhat roughly and fell to a crouching position, the wings on his back vanishing a short moment afterwards. He turned over in an upright sitting position, feeling very dizzy indeed.
"Blast it."
Nearly the entire left side of his black trench coat was soaked in blood, staining the material a deep maroon. He warily glanced up towards the black smoky sky, getting his first good look at his attacker, Makhno, and Steorra and Nick charging him. With his right, undamaged arm, he pulled open the straps of his coat and clumsily removed his weapon. He was skilled enough with the shotgun to operate it with one hand, but there was no way he could aim properly... his attacker and allies becoming fast moving blurs to him...
