She hears him, though she's finished analyzing the small arm he's pulled before he was done talking. She could determine the type and specs from the sight and sound the cocking's made alone. Modified as a gun may be, they generally deviate from a common basic frame, and she's exceedingly familiar with every part Mayfield's hardware store has to offer. With that in mind, it was easy to draw up an accurate estimation of that specific revolver's capacities. Guns are her specialty, she just doesn't ever get a chance to use them often, given that all her abilities generally surpass in utility and destructive power what a man-made firearm has to offer.
...Still.
Something that small isn't going to affect her. Ah, she'll bleed if he pulls the trigger and getting the bullet out would be a hassle, not to mention that the brain'll take more time to regenerate compared to anywhere else, but there's no way a simple revolver can kill her. Her tongue was this carnival's doing, but her immortality wouldn't fail facing such a simple and basic physical threat like getting shot anywhere on the body through an ordinary gun. And at that, by the hands of a man - just like her.
She doesn't so much as flinch. Her gaze doesn't bother giving the barrel a single glance either, still completely focused on his. The resolve in her eyes doesn't weaken. If anything, there's something subtle and sad behind that ironclad composure. She can't hope to express the sentiment adequately as things are now, but...
She's gambled on people's good nature and their fear of truly 'killing' before. (Granted, her immortal edge helped.) It's worked in the past. She wouldn't mind doing it again, but with how convoluted things are now, this may just be the hardest time yet. She's fairly certain he lacks the strength, but with all that's happened and his unstable state of mind, who's to speak in absolutes? She's got to consider the worst case scenarios anyway, which in this case...
Mm. That's why. Without doubt, with absolute certainty.
If Abel pulls that trigger, he'll be hurting himself far more than he'll ever manage to hurt her.
And that's the most sorrowful outcome. She shouldn't let herself be hit. Not for her sake, but for his. But she can't move or turn away either. Her actions are all she's got, when she has no words to fall back on.
So she waits. It's all she can do - that, and look back at him as if the revolver didn't exist. Eyes devoid of fear or hesitation, only harboring a faint hint of regret.
no subject
She hears him, though she's finished analyzing the small arm he's pulled before he was done talking. She could determine the type and specs from the sight and sound the cocking's made alone. Modified as a gun may be, they generally deviate from a common basic frame, and she's exceedingly familiar with every part Mayfield's hardware store has to offer. With that in mind, it was easy to draw up an accurate estimation of that specific revolver's capacities. Guns are her specialty, she just doesn't ever get a chance to use them often, given that all her abilities generally surpass in utility and destructive power what a man-made firearm has to offer.
...Still.
Something that small isn't going to affect her. Ah, she'll bleed if he pulls the trigger and getting the bullet out would be a hassle, not to mention that the brain'll take more time to regenerate compared to anywhere else, but there's no way a simple revolver can kill her. Her tongue was this carnival's doing, but her immortality wouldn't fail facing such a simple and basic physical threat like getting shot anywhere on the body through an ordinary gun. And at that, by the hands of a man - just like her.
She doesn't so much as flinch. Her gaze doesn't bother giving the barrel a single glance either, still completely focused on his. The resolve in her eyes doesn't weaken. If anything, there's something subtle and sad behind that ironclad composure. She can't hope to express the sentiment adequately as things are now, but...
She's gambled on people's good nature and their fear of truly 'killing' before. (Granted, her immortal edge helped.) It's worked in the past. She wouldn't mind doing it again, but with how convoluted things are now, this may just be the hardest time yet. She's fairly certain he lacks the strength, but with all that's happened and his unstable state of mind, who's to speak in absolutes? She's got to consider the worst case scenarios anyway, which in this case...
Mm. That's why. Without doubt, with absolute certainty.
If Abel pulls that trigger, he'll be hurting himself far more than he'll ever manage to hurt her.
And that's the most sorrowful outcome. She shouldn't let herself be hit. Not for her sake, but for his. But she can't move or turn away either. Her actions are all she's got, when she has no words to fall back on.
So she waits. It's all she can do - that, and look back at him as if the revolver didn't exist. Eyes devoid of fear or hesitation, only harboring a faint hint of regret.
She can't save him...]