[An aloof sense of comfort, projected by the way his hips swing forward, how his arms hang relaxed at his side, and in his focus on the boy - rather than the impending danger - is the only image Takasugi cares to project.
He maintains it even in the face of the other's desperate shouting, lips parting as if to offer another meaningless suggestion of subtlety. Unfortunately, the growing echo of boot falls and the ear piercing ring of bullets interrupts him.
A direct hit.
Disappointing. The decision to move has already been made by the time he's implored to do so - but he won't be stepping away from the enemy. Yellow eyes flash in his vision as Takasugi lunges, closing the gap between himself and the enforcers with his sword drawn.
He wonders how far the injured boy will make it down the tunnel, or if some form of selfless justice - so common in the resistance - would bid him to stay.]
no subject
He maintains it even in the face of the other's desperate shouting, lips parting as if to offer another meaningless suggestion of subtlety. Unfortunately, the growing echo of boot falls and the ear piercing ring of bullets interrupts him.
A direct hit.
Disappointing. The decision to move has already been made by the time he's implored to do so - but he won't be stepping away from the enemy. Yellow eyes flash in his vision as Takasugi lunges, closing the gap between himself and the enforcers with his sword drawn.
He wonders how far the injured boy will make it down the tunnel, or if some form of selfless justice - so common in the resistance - would bid him to stay.]