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[color=bf00ff]“Sure you will.”[/color] Blue starts, but bites back the rest of the retort. He wasn’t in the mood for a verbal joust, and he doubted Skav was as well. A quick look over the shoulder confirms that they didn’t have much time left to get out of here. He doesn’t even notice the glass hurtling their way until he hears Skav’s comment, chock full of that trademark sardonicism even in the face of danger. Blue, on the other hand, just lets out an exasperated, near-delirious huff of laughter, eyes flickering to the shards splayed across the ground, and then to the darkened patch on Skav’s shoulder. It had missed him by an order of magnitude, but it seemed the crow-masked Razor wasn’t quite as lucky.

[color=bf00ff]“Jesus, what have you been [i]eating[/i]?”[/color] Blue grunts with effort when Skav drapes even more of their weight on him, stumbling past the threshold that separated Quincy’s Bar from the cold, wet world outside. The moment rainwater hits skin, a dull ache awakens in his muscles, the muddied soles of his boots struggling to find purchase against slippery, metal stairs. With every second that crawls by, the climb seems to become more and more insurmountable, though it’s all he can do to grit his teeth and press on. The rainwater is starting to seep into his clothes, and he feels his stomach drop when he almost trips face-first into the pavement. Fortunately, Skav’s is there to steady him, their weight acting as a counterbalance even if they weren’t consciously aware of it.

Before Blue can ask where the Qrow was, he gets his answer. It’s hard to tell quite where they are through thick curtains of rain, but he trusts the street lamps lining the sidewalk will light their way. Taking a deep breath, he tightens his grip around Skav’s torso, prepares for the journey ahead.

And then, out of nowhere, Skav’s shoves him away. There’s a brief moment where he’s seized by shock and confusion and anger, a caustic, chemical cocktail of emotions swimming through the recesses of his brain, though it doesn’t take long for him to notice the figure careening towards them. Dog-mask is surprisingly agile for his size, and he reaches them in a matter of seconds, but his baseball bat goes wide and swings into the ground, splintering on impact. Like thunder, the sound of wood against concrete is deafening; the threat of violence a more effective deterrent than violence itself. Ears ringing, he finds himself unable to do anything other than watch, scrabbling back when dog-mask gets too close. Their adversary looms over them, the shattered stump of a baseball bat quickly forgotten, and it is only then that he catches sight of a glint of metal - sharp, serrated, and deadly.

On instinct, Blue reaches for his own switchblade - slowly, gently - while dog-mask’s attention is fixed on Skav. His heart pounds in his chest, but his grip is steady, waiting for a chance to strike.

Mustering up every last shred of energy, Blue launches himself at dog-mask, aiming for the throat. The Bomber, however, ducks out of the way with a second to spare, and the blade only scores a line through his jacket. Then, he catches Blue by the wrist, forcefully wrenching the knife out of his hand. It falls to the ground with a resounding clang, and Blue can almost [i]feel[/i] the shit-eating grin underneath that mask, but he doesn’t let that bother him for too long - he couldn’t. With all his strength, he twists around to clamp a hand on dog-mask’s forearm, pulling the man with him as he falls backwards onto the sidewalk.

Blue knows it took him by surprise when the grip on his wrist weakens, though it only offers him a moment of respite for him to come up with a new course of action. Hooking an arm around dog-mask’s neck, he uses the other’s heft as leverage, pushing him onto his side. He’d almost forgotten about dog-mask’s knife, but a flash of metal, and the blade is pressed close to his neck - a particularly unfriendly reminder. Blue closes both hands around the Bomber’s arm in an effort to push the knife away from him, legs kicking all the while.

[b]“You’re fucking dead, you little shit!”[/b]

[color=bf00ff]“Skav!”[/color] Blue hisses through gritted teeth, his grip beginning to waver. The cold metal bites into his skin, and beads of red ooze from the still-shallow cut. [color=bf00ff]“A little - shit! A little help here?!”[/color]