But he's used to that, and there's a part of his brain that adapts to it, slowing events down and beginning to leap into a rapid pace. In one moment he's beaming at his friend, prepared to greet him in return, and then he watches the expression of ease and contentedness freeze on Mika's face and then turn sharp, cold, wild.] Wh — [catches in his throat as he's bodily pushed aside, Mika placing himself between him and his roommate, the gun already drawn and trained on her.
What the fuck?]
Oi, oi, oi oi oi, [he's stepping to Mika's side, carefully reaching out to his hand, trying to push his arm up so that the gun would point (not really all that) harmlessly to the ceiling.] Mika. [His voice was rough, gravel in the pit of his throat, scarcely above a growl. Somewhere in his mind he acknowledges that Mika thought this necessary, so it was worth approaching with caution, but...] I have not given you an order. Stand down.
[He slowly removes his hand from Mika's wrist, staring him down, steely gaze expecting compliance.
He has questions piled up at his feet, both those levied at him and those that he wanted answered, now. He works through them one at a time.] She's my roommate. [Towards Mika, his tone taking a slow step back towards normalcy, but still rather strained.] And I'm Orga Itsuka. Leader of Tekkadan.
[He feels that might clear up some confusion. He's going to step out on a limb here and assume whatever bad blood between these two hand't accumulated over a few short weeks. It took something a lot more grave to get Mika into a mode like this.
Now he's the one to carefully place himself between the two.]
Listen up. While I'm here, we're going to talk, and we're going to do it peaceably. So, with that in mind, will one of you please tell me what the hell is going on?
troy walking in with pizza.gif
But he's used to that, and there's a part of his brain that adapts to it, slowing events down and beginning to leap into a rapid pace. In one moment he's beaming at his friend, prepared to greet him in return, and then he watches the expression of ease and contentedness freeze on Mika's face and then turn sharp, cold, wild.] Wh — [catches in his throat as he's bodily pushed aside, Mika placing himself between him and his roommate, the gun already drawn and trained on her.
What the fuck?]
Oi, oi, oi oi oi, [he's stepping to Mika's side, carefully reaching out to his hand, trying to push his arm up so that the gun would point (not really all that) harmlessly to the ceiling.] Mika. [His voice was rough, gravel in the pit of his throat, scarcely above a growl. Somewhere in his mind he acknowledges that Mika thought this necessary, so it was worth approaching with caution, but...] I have not given you an order. Stand down.
[He slowly removes his hand from Mika's wrist, staring him down, steely gaze expecting compliance.
He has questions piled up at his feet, both those levied at him and those that he wanted answered, now. He works through them one at a time.] She's my roommate. [Towards Mika, his tone taking a slow step back towards normalcy, but still rather strained.] And I'm Orga Itsuka. Leader of Tekkadan.
[He feels that might clear up some confusion. He's going to step out on a limb here and assume whatever bad blood between these two hand't accumulated over a few short weeks. It took something a lot more grave to get Mika into a mode like this.
Now he's the one to carefully place himself between the two.]
Listen up. While I'm here, we're going to talk, and we're going to do it peaceably. So, with that in mind, will one of you please tell me what the hell is going on?