#i think everyone who attends a huntsman academy has something wrong with them <3 ]

[etruatcaelum]

He seems very, Osiander observed, motivated.

Isaac swore under his breath as he spun the Long Memory through the air to screen himself as he ran, caught too out-gunned and off his guard to even try deflecting every bullet James was unloading at him. One got through and bounced off his ribs instead—he yelped—a bright jolt of pain, aura crawling erratically up and down his side.

Welt, his stupid backseat driver hummed.

Why are you picking on me!!

No answer. Bastard. Isaac hit the wall, planted one foot, and launched himself around the corner to take cover behind the next stack of hard-light blocks. Okay– okay—Brothers.

He needed to close again. Running around like a maniac letting James take potshots at him would be a completely embarrassing way to lose; of course, that also meant running headlong into gunfire, so. Great.

Okay.

Tightening his grip on the cane, Isaac ducked back out from behind his shelter and charged.

James glanced around the box and saw Isaac run into an open space. Of course he would take such an opening. Immediately he raised the guns and started shooting.

He was in a good position, at perfect distance in his advantage. Isaac could throw his weapon at him, but that wouldn't be an exactly smart choice. Meanwhile, he could unload both of his guns and hide again to reload.

Given such a chance, he would take it and do his very best.

It was supposed to be a friendly sparring, but he was already pissed and would gladly wipe the floor with Isaac's face. In a friendly manner of course.