Setting: Various locations
Time: Sunset Day 002, Night 002
Summary: Jr wanders and explodes, and kills things. That's... pretty much it.
Warnings: Violence. Sudden, bloody, and all over the place. =|bb
Jr stood in the door frame, one gun drawn, and waited.
It had been one seriously long night; when he had awoken near sunset, he'd noticed the shadows creeping across the floor. Nothing unusual there. But then the sun had set, and he'd noticed the shadows had -eyes-. Beating a hasty retreat - he had his guns and he had his other abilities, but he didn't have enough ammunition for that kind of fight - he'd found himself in the presence of one ghost-like being after another. In the end, he'd managed to find his way to what seemed like a safe room, but soon enough, he realized he had to take care of his needs. His concentrated survival rations weren't going to last long, and there was a distinct lack of facilities in the room - and he wasn't about to use a corner.
He had spent the abnormally long day avoiding people after the disastrous incident with the blond kid; a repeat of that was definitely not on the menu. But it meant that, aside from the map he'd started keeping on his connection gear, he had no idea where everything was in this place. He'd found a bathroom and a kitchen, but he'd been attacked in both of those after night fell.
And then the hounds had found him.
For the past half hour, he'd been leading them a merry chase despite his injuries, and he'd even managed to take one or two of them out before they'd cornered him.
And now, here he was. Stuck in a doorway, three shots down in either gun, which left him with 14 shots between them, plus his spare clips. He needed to find the materials and suitable tools to make more, and soon. Six hounds surrounded him at a wary distance, three on either side. Normally, he'd have laughed and shot them all down without a care in the world... but now, he had to conserve his ammunition.
Which meant he had to rely on more... hands-on methods.
Jr grinned suddenly. He could do hands on. Especially if he used a few bullets to soften them up first.
Five minutes later, there were six dead hellhounds, three dead from gunshots, three from broken necks or backs. And while he was looking a little more ragged around the edges, Rubedo wasn't much worse off than when he'd started - despite having used six more bullets.