SKREEEEE!

[strangerpeople]

SKREEEEE!

[It's about three o'clock when the train suddenly hears something like the cry of a crow. It's not coming from inside the train, either; it's coming from the outside.

Almost instantly, the speaker system comes to life, and the Conductor's voice echoes through the cars.]

Attention, all passengers and crew! We are under attack. Please come to armaments if you are willing. Otherwise, please congregate in the lounge for your own safety. Immediately, please.

I will meet those of you coming to the weapons.

Comments

[strangerpeople]

[And King's first shot...misses. Barely.

King can see paper fluttering just past where his shot goes.]

[unwittingking]

...what?

[What?

King is going to try again because who stops after one attempt?

Also, can he tell if there's anything on the paper? Or is it blank?]

[technicolourdifficulties]

Yes, well... Good.

[Wow, he's... actually not used to getting sincere apologies. It kind of throws him off. Not enough that he'll move and throw off any more shots though, which is a bit remarkable in itself when you think about it since he's balancing someone more than half his weight on his head.

He's obviously oblivious to the paper.]

[unwittingking]

[He might've given a proper response but gold blood.]

[technicolourdifficulties]

[The lack of response is in itself a little concerning.]

...? Is something amiss up there? ...Moreso than the obvious, I mean.

[unwittingking]

I'm not fully sure what we're up against, but it looks like it's blood is gold colored, so...

[We may or may not be in more trouble than expected.]

[strangerpeople]

[There are symbols on the paper, indecipherable to King.

It does hit, and the more fragile of the paper strands disintegrates as gold liquid starts to sprinkle the skies.]

[unwittingking]

[Indecipherable scribbles as far as he's concerned, especially when he sees what he can only assume is gold colored blood.]

Oh, great, that is what we're fighting. Wonderful.

[He'll continue to shoot at the thing, occasionally hitting it, occasionally not hitting it. Fifty-fifty stuff.]