[ Flynn grits, wincing around the bolt of pain blooming in his shoulder. Blood is already seeping to the surface, staining the blue of his shirt an angry violet, but his weird little gun is still raised, aiming true at where a cutout was just a second ago.
Not very convincing, he tells himself, and aims a pained little smile at Hugh. ]
Really, it's fine, it must have ricocheted. We should be careful where we're aiming. Did you hit one? I couldn't see.
there ain't room, cw: blood
[ Flynn grits, wincing around the bolt of pain blooming in his shoulder. Blood is already seeping to the surface, staining the blue of his shirt an angry violet, but his weird little gun is still raised, aiming true at where a cutout was just a second ago.
Not very convincing, he tells himself, and aims a pained little smile at Hugh. ]
Really, it's fine, it must have ricocheted. We should be careful where we're aiming. Did you hit one? I couldn't see.