His heart rate will probably not be helped by a bang of air, and a projectile whizzing past him at a ridiculous speed.
The splicer is still falling, and her hair's disturbed by the wind from it; that's how close and abrupt the thing is. It hits a far wall and explodes in a shower of brown liquid which smells strongly of coffee, because it is coffee.
Jack follows it, running.
Just in time to save the day!
"Are you okay?" he asks, slowing to a stop in front of Sinclair. Is that blood on his trouser leg -- no, that was already there. There's a second coffee flask in Jack's one hand, and now there's a gun in the other as he looks around for any more danger.
The reverb in his voice is still faintly there, but it's gone down a lot in a weirdly short amount of time. He feels less awesome, but more together. Which, in this situation, is probably a bit more useful.
...And he feels a bit of an idiot for leaving a wounded man with shitty aim alone like that.
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The splicer is still falling, and her hair's disturbed by the wind from it; that's how close and abrupt the thing is. It hits a far wall and explodes in a shower of brown liquid which smells strongly of coffee, because it is coffee.
Jack follows it, running.
Just in time to save the day!
"Are you okay?" he asks, slowing to a stop in front of Sinclair. Is that blood on his trouser leg -- no, that was already there. There's a second coffee flask in Jack's one hand, and now there's a gun in the other as he looks around for any more danger.
The reverb in his voice is still faintly there, but it's gone down a lot in a weirdly short amount of time. He feels less awesome, but more together. Which, in this situation, is probably a bit more useful.
...And he feels a bit of an idiot for leaving a wounded man with shitty aim alone like that.