Corentine de Flamel
. . . .
. . . .
. . . .
Were these people idiots? What kind of moron would posture up and try to threaten someone that they had never met before, simply because they were offering help? To him, the sense that thought process made was nil. In fact, it was almost frustrating. This "ronin" was spouting some bullshit that he made up off the top of his head, and the wolf man was posturing like some bigshot. Not that Coren really had a problem. If they decided that they wanted to fight, Coren was more than happy to oblige. Unfortunately however, before Coren could correct their idiotic assumptions, the lady took off. She was going somewhere, but to be completely honest, Coren didn't really care. If she didn't want his help, then who was he to force it. That said, he was not going to let this stupid swordsman go after his slander.
"Tch. Idiots. If you want to fight, just say it. Don't try to make yourselves look good by throwing out random slander." The moment he felt like striking however, the wolf man made his move. A blast of black smoke. Well, there was one thing that the "ronin" had been correct about. Coren was indeed an assassin. Just not on the target that he was stating. And if Grian thought that a little black smoke was enough to escape from a man of Coren's calibre, he was sorely mistaken. The moment the black smoke started to blast out, it all slowed. Coren pulled a small device from a hidden pouch on her person. An invention of his from some time back. It was a tool that he very much liked though. It appeared to be several layers of sticks, but with a flick, it revealed its true form. A v notch that went down to a straight line. It cut at a 90 degree angle to a duel notched section to stabilize. One solid piece of elastic between the upper v notch. With another swift movement, a small metal ball was secured on the elastic.
At the same time, Coren's mind split. Calculate. Estimate the weight of his opponents. Two men. Approximate weight. Variance of plus or minus 5 pounds. Sound of impact. Force used. Calculated. With all this in mind, Coren estimated the position of the two while pulling back on the elastic.
Fire.
Reload.
Fire again.
Two metal balls sped toward the enemies with force to kill. One directly at where they would be, and another to close them in. Of course, they were in the air, so it would be nearly impossible to dodge. The second bullet was to account for the chance he could somehow.
Ha. It seemed as though his companion had a similar idea, and though he was firing seemingly randomly, two of his shots coincided with Coren's calculations. Perhaps this "hero" was more formidable than Coren's original estimations. Regardless, it would be difficult to get out of the situation the pair had set up without injury, if not impossible. Excellent.
