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Sister Grimm
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I am a great biotic wind that will sweep all before me like a... a great wind! A great biotic wind!
[ *  * ]
Okay, reassuring. And not sarcastic, 'oh awesome, just great, really', but genuinely reassuring. Gloria seemed to fluctuate between relatively kind of okay, to, well, this. You know, tears, almost breaking down. It wasn't like he could fault her, let him make that clear. Hell, if he was alone, he'd likely break down himself. But he wasn't, so he couldn't. Geez, if she was this terrified and uncertain when he was acting reasonably, how would she go if he was going to pieces? Okay, bad idea, things were bad enough without going into...sort of thing.

Well, she was collected now. Fine, awesome. No problemo. He offered another smile. "Yeah, class rotation is fine. The Commander Shepard to your Ashely Williams." Micheal glanced over his shoulder toward the cluster of buildings before looking back at Gloria after a moments thought. "It might be safer to just cut through. I mean, some rogue could be hiding out inside, just waiting to gank us. No, yeah, buildings are dangerous. Might be even better to avoid them completely, you know? But we're already here and it would take just as long to go around. My reasoning seems sketchy here, I think, but anyway. Let's just work on making it through now, okay?"

The gamer looked back over at the buildings, trying to think of which one would be most appealing to a camper. If they had a gun, the taller the better, especially if it had a decent view of the area outside. All that would require was a decent hiding spot, then they could just pop up and shoot the two of them as they were going by. If the camper only had a melee weapon, they might be waiting by a door on the ground floor, listening for the first sound of someone passing by.

If either turned out to be true, chances of making it through the buildings were slim, to say-No, hold on, bad bad bad idea. Thins were bad enough without making up imaginary threats. Which was true, but it hardly hurt to consider all the possibilities, right?

Maybe it was for the best that they waited around while he thought, judging by the rapid fire of a submachine gun somewhere among the buildings. That fast a rate of fire, it had to be an SMG. Maybe an uzi? Or a tec-9? MP5K? Geez, what other submachine guns did you see all the time in FPS's? You know what, never mind. Probably not the best time to decide what model of firearm someone was being killed with. Micheal grabbed Gloria's hand and dragged her toward one of the buildings, his eyes wide and darting around in his head. Where did the shooting come from again? He should have been trying to pinpoint it, rather then try to measure the rate of fire.

They should get inside, shouldn't they? But what if the person shooting was inside? Just, you know, waiting for someone else to come investigate? No, no thank you, he was fine where he was, crouching by the corner of one of the outlying buildings. At least he hadn't seen anyone there. After a long second of waiting for more shots, he looked back at Gloria. "It's okay, yeah? Just, probably someone testing out their gun. 'S all. Just, you follow me lead? I'm sure it's all good."

After a long long time without any sound, what seemed like hours really, Micheal inched around the corner, taking a tentative glance at what might be waiting for them. Someone was over there, sure. He got the impression of blue hair. Aside from that, it didn't look like they were armed. All the same, Micheal dug the claws out of his bag and held them in a white-knuckled grip. "Hello?" He called out, breaking the silence and already regretting it. "That, uh, wouldn't have been you shooting, would it? I mean, no judgments here if it was, but, you know, if it was, could you maybe possibly not shoot at me?"
"There are, it has been said, two types of people in the world. There are those who, when presented with a glass that is exactly half full, say: this glass is half full. And then there are those who say: this glass is half empty. The world belongs, however, to those who can look at the glass and say: What's up with this glass? Excuse me? Excuse me? This is my glass? I don't think so. My glass was full! And it was a bigger glass" -Terry Pratchett, The Truth

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