[Ogata just stands there for a long moment, watching Shuichi shoot. Six meters.
He watches him hit the second demon and freeze it in place. Alright. That seems useful. He can work with that. He can work with all of this, really. Still. Six meters. Six!! Meters!! Children are useless. The worst part is the fact that if Shuichi’s poor competency gets him killed or injured, it will, surely, somehow be Ogata’s fault. He feels this in his gut. Especially the people already looking to blame him for something. Six meters.]
Alright. You stay close to Ferran and pick off any that get close. If you can move and shoot, do it. Otherwise you should change your position every minute or so. Old man, [Old man?! Gromph repeats, offended, and is ignored;] You keep the bulk of them pinned down up front with your magic. I’ll be in back. [He loads his rifle, five bullets, thumb pressing down on the chamber not quite filled. The way he was trained to do. Pushing the bolt back in and his finger finds its familiar place at the trigger, pressing down, and letting the muted sound of a dry fire ring out. He’s done this hundreds of times. It’s at that precise moment he truly feels at peace with this ridiculous situation.]
Shout if you mess up. I’ll take care of it. [Helpful? He turns to head off to a good shooting perch in the back. Apparently he’s not interested in answering any questions.]
no subject
He watches him hit the second demon and freeze it in place. Alright. That seems useful. He can work with that. He can work with all of this, really. Still. Six meters. Six!! Meters!! Children are useless. The worst part is the fact that if Shuichi’s poor competency gets him killed or injured, it will, surely, somehow be Ogata’s fault. He feels this in his gut. Especially the people already looking to blame him for something. Six meters.]
Alright. You stay close to Ferran and pick off any that get close. If you can move and shoot, do it. Otherwise you should change your position every minute or so. Old man, [Old man?! Gromph repeats, offended, and is ignored;] You keep the bulk of them pinned down up front with your magic. I’ll be in back.
[He loads his rifle, five bullets, thumb pressing down on the chamber not quite filled. The way he was trained to do. Pushing the bolt back in and his finger finds its familiar place at the trigger, pressing down, and letting the muted sound of a dry fire ring out. He’s done this hundreds of times. It’s at that precise moment he truly feels at peace with this ridiculous situation.]
Shout if you mess up. I’ll take care of it.
[Helpful? He turns to head off to a good shooting perch in the back. Apparently he’s not interested in answering any questions.]