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Revolving - stupid drabble (w/ Kriet!)
Stepping forward onto the hood of the car the police detective gave a tired huff taking seemingly strained effort to catch his breath and move to position himself into view overlooking the present situation taking place before him - a number of unpleasant murderous vampires and a young woman. Gentleman though he was he wouldnt just sit back - not that James Kriet NEEDED or WANTED help particularly.
"You know...I would quite readily be against my whole 'police officer' job title if I were to just stand by and let the lot of you do this whole 'ambush' thing against a lovely young woman..." the detective spoke up from the rear of the crowd - a handsome young man dressed in a well tailored suit that hugged his form with a oilskin duster over it not unlike the old style cowboys - his hands raised to air quote the word ambush as he spoke.
"F*** YOU, SKINBAG..." one of the would be assailants snarled out as some of the attention was momentarily drawn away from the Butcher - James Kriet. Mike however could only huff in response lowering his hands from the air quotes to his sides.
"And there we have it...it all comes down to sex...f*** you and f*** you and f*** you...but in the end we all feel so mutually disappointed...like a bad prom date...whether with a male with a tiny d*ck or a girl with a snatch that has gnashing teeth...but in the end its just another passage in a revolving passage of time itself...but you know what I love about revolvers?" Mike inquired his hands at his hips under his coat.
"...Whats that?" the assailant snarled clearly getting more and more irritated by the human cop speaking up.
"...Unlike the standard issue...They dont jam." Mike gave a slight grin quick drawing forward the revolver from his hip as a runic pattern arose blazing with majestic light along the surface of the weapon as one by one in succession he would hip fire against the fielding of the ambush.
Each round hurtled as shot after shot were launched from the barrel of the revolver which glinted with a faint blue light along the engravings his free hand feathering the hammer to rapid fire shots which radiated with light as they emerged and slammed into the chests and backs of the targets some even piercing through the first to strike at those behind them.
"Your turn, Slayer!" Mike let out a yelp as those hit by the rounds erupted in explosions of white hot light and ash - while the detective maneuvered to duck behind cover in order to reload. As he flicked his wrist while crouching low the cylinder flicked out and with a tip of his hand the steaming white hot remnants of the runically carved casings tumbled out sizzling as they landed in the dirt at his feet as with a gesture of his hand rounds engraved with a sun on its base flicked from his belt and into the cylinder which he flicked again to close readying.
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