Tear A Path 252 Young'uns

Crimson blood was spraying everywhere, almost like a mischievous child holding a water gun for the first time, overcome by the novelty of their new toy. Not putting it down for even a second, entranced by the stream after stream of liquid it shot out. If anybody was to lose this much blood, death had probably already booked a seat for him for a one way trip to the underworld.

Luckily it wasn't his blood. After the searing pain subsided and a throbbing one took it's place, Ode managed to look up and see that the boy who was holding the gun was bent backwards as a tail had coiled itself around his neck and a knife protruded from his neck.

Behind him the sounds of a person spitting profusely could be heard. "Geez, I really hate this no hands stuff." A gruff old voice sounded out. "You have two don't you? If you can't use them properly why not share one with me?"

Jeff peaked out from behind the dead young man. He was less than ecstatic to greet the old warrior, especially with a lot of blood in his mouth. Without the use of his hands, Jeff had no other option than to employ the only other thing he had which had any strength to hold on to things, his mouth.

This of course came with any number of problems, the first being that the blade could only be used to stab. Unlike in comics, it was almost impossible to swing any kind of blade with the mouth, much less have sword in it. But the thing that really annoyed Jeff was the fact that it was hard to close his mouth while he was using it, like in this situation, the blood of his victim started spraying into his semi open mouth. The thought of how unsanitary it was almost sent him reeling, that combined with the thought of how unhygienic and irresponsible youth were these days locked him into a tooth brus.h.i.+ng spree for the next seven days just thinking about all the disgusting things the young man's blood might have contained.

Ode at this point realized that he was still alive and that Jeff had been the one to save him. Looking at his own body, he saw that he had only received a wound in his shoulder where a hole was leaking what smelled like burnt blood, putting his finger in he dug around his squelching flesh until he came out the other side. The thing had gone through his armor, into his flesh and clean the other side without so much as a stop break, but at the very least he didn't have to worry about anything lingering in his body.

He tried to muster his strength seeing as there were still things to be done, but the moment he tried to put any strength in his legs he felt a sharp pain shoot up all the up his body. Being a seasoned veteran, Ode let out almost no signs of pain and anguish, only the slight waver in his eyes that lasted but a fraction of a second, indiscernible by even the most trained eyes.

But Jeff's eyes weren't like most trained eyes, but he simply squinted his eyes in curiosity before feigning ignorance. Looking around Jeff said unconcernedly, "I think the young'uns have handle over this, what say we elderly folk sit the rest of this out."

Looking around, Ode could see that it wasn't just Jeff who came to their aid, but the rest of his squad as well. Usually in a direct confrontation, a gun would win ten out of ten times. But with the chaos that happened after the opposition's men endured several minutes of high tension, their concentration had become frayed. This became the perfect opportunity for the rag tag group of men to come in and save the day.

Faris played a huge role in support of her mostly melee team as she was the one who controlled the field, using weak spells with shorter casts to target people who were prepared to shoot. It was a small interference, and did minimal damage at such range, but in battle the difference of half a second the interference brought them allowed the melee attackers to close in on their enemies, effectively nullifying the range of the guns.

At the other side, Travis actually had a nearly similar situation to Ode, only that he found himself saved by Jacob, who now stood over his kneeling figure, offering a hand to pick him up.