By the time the shot had been fired by T-Rae, he was already moving. He released the man he was after, not particularly caring if the scum hit the ground thirty feet below. Maybe he'd break his fall on a pile of cushions, maybe not. He dismissed him with only a brief snarl of frustration. He was already rolling, keeping on motion on the grounds that a fixed position was a bad one. Out came Baskerville, the revolver aimed for T-Rae as he squeezed the trigger with the ease of practice.
There was a resounding click and none was more surprised than him, from the look on his face.
So he altered his plans, kept rolling till he went off the side himself and out of sight. Landing with considerably more grace than his quarry, he dove for cover behind an upended table near the stage. As music echoed and lights flashed, he checked his gun.
Loaded. He snapped the chamber closed and peered oddly at Baskerville in contemplation.
The weapons of the Gunslingers were forged from the swords of the Knights of the Round. Arthur Eld's own Excalibur itself had been the metal to forge the penultimate weapons of the Deschain bloodline. For him? Arondight, blade of the greatest knight of the Round had chosen him when the time came. They had shot everything he had asked of them. But they would not shoot an innocent.
Neither monster, nor witch despite the voice in his head. Out came Samael as well, both pistols laid in hand as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He listened to the guns as his kind were wont to do, seeking out the spirit in iron before murmuring quietly.
"I have forgotten the face of my father."
Words in his head again. Intentions confusing, seeking to assure him. He scowled and decided that he couldn't risk it. And then from the shattered remains of a table, a groan made him recall that his target was there yet. He glanced over the table, frowned...And bolted out of cover. He flipped onto the stage, the roar of Samael echoing over the music as the screams of DeSade filled the air.
"
MY KNEE!"
He couldn't kill DeSade- he needed him, for one. But he made for a suitable distraction if they were here for him, and he ran for backstage. His guns flashing in hand as he fired off trick-shot after trick-shot, covering his escape and aiming to miss before ducking backstage.
And with that, he was gone. Possible to pursue, but that would mean leaving DeSade with a massive bullet hole in his knee cap as even now, he bled out.
In his mind, DeSade would be overwhelmed by pain and shock, prompting a relaxation of his mental barriers...And coming upon a book, leather bound and being exchanged by a small, smiling girl and a smiling man with the strangest accessory.
A noose set where a necktie would normally be.
@Michale CS @Gands
