Devero takes it with one hand and salutes Genjo with the other, before turning back to the mouth of the alley. He settles into a easy firing stance, swings the gun up to sight at the monsters massing on the other side of the gap, and pulls the trigger--
Nothing happens.
"Are you shitting me right now?" he starts to say, but doesn't get much further than 'are you' before the first monster gathers itself and leaps across the gap. It hits severed pavement at chest height, but its long arms are more than strong enough for it to dig in and heave itself the rest of the way up.
Devero backpedals and tries again, swearing when the gun again fails to go off. The monster actually laughs at him, a sibilant and malicious sound, before reaching out with a long arm to swat him into the wall. Helpless harmless human with his little useless gun can be dispatched later; the creature turns its attention to the actual threat: the chanting priest.
It drops to all fours and stalks forward with a leonine grace. Still hissing out its delighted laughter, it crouches to spring-- and that helpless little human it's already dismissed grabs it around the ankle.
It swings its long head back, fur bristling up along its spine with disbelieving affront. Devero lifts the revolver with his free hand and sights it right in the face. "Fuck you," he tells it, and pulls the trigger.
And this time he's actually cocked the hammer back first.
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Nothing happens.
"Are you shitting me right now?" he starts to say, but doesn't get much further than 'are you' before the first monster gathers itself and leaps across the gap. It hits severed pavement at chest height, but its long arms are more than strong enough for it to dig in and heave itself the rest of the way up.
Devero backpedals and tries again, swearing when the gun again fails to go off. The monster actually laughs at him, a sibilant and malicious sound, before reaching out with a long arm to swat him into the wall. Helpless harmless human with his little useless gun can be dispatched later; the creature turns its attention to the actual threat: the chanting priest.
It drops to all fours and stalks forward with a leonine grace. Still hissing out its delighted laughter, it crouches to spring-- and that helpless little human it's already dismissed grabs it around the ankle.
It swings its long head back, fur bristling up along its spine with disbelieving affront. Devero lifts the revolver with his free hand and sights it right in the face. "Fuck you," he tells it, and pulls the trigger.
And this time he's actually cocked the hammer back first.