The enemy ship loomed ever closer as Angel loaded her pistol for probably the hundredth time. Only this time around she would actually have a chance to use the thing. The very knowledge of the oncoming battle had adrenaline pumping through her veins and all of her thoughts focused on two things: defending the ship and taking down as many Red Cloth warriors as possible. Her desire to single-handedly destroy the terrorist group was slowly turning into an obsession, it seemed. Ever since the crews last encounter with them, she'd been looking forward to a chance to face them again. And now, after months of waiting, she was finally going to get that opportunity.
The half-elf merely glanced at the man who'd fallen in beside her, but did a quick double-take in order to take in his outrageous attire. Come to think of it, he'd been in the galley when she'd slipped down there for something to eat. Must've been one of the new crewmen, a mercenary more likely than not. Ever since the Red Cloth had started causing mayhem wherever they turned up, mercenaries had plenty of job opportunities protecting ships and cities. What bothered her about this man, though, was the fact that he'd come over to talk to her. Had the fact that she spent all of her time in the crow's nest not been enough to suggest that she wasn't all that keen on human interaction? Besides which, he seemed awfully friendly for a mercenary (then again, so was Sierus, but Angel really questioned the poor guy's sanity at times), as if he'd recognized her from somewhere other than the galley. Odd.
"Yeah, fantastic," she answered dryly, more focused on the vessel they were about to be boarded by than making idle chit-chat. "Name's Angel Flare, but now may not be the best time for intro-" The end of her remark devolved into a coughing fit as the deck was suddenly blanketed in a think screen of smoke, stinging her eyes and coating the inside of her throat with every breath. Struggling to catch her breath, she yanked the bandana off of her wrist and pressed it over her mouth and nose, blocking out the tainted air. It didn't do much for her eyes, but all things considered, this was better than nothing. Squinting through the cloud of grey surrounding her and Gregson, Angel could only catch glimpses and silhouettes of people fighting. There was no way of telling how Red Cloth had boarded the ship, or who was winning so far.
Suddenly it seemed as if the hand of fate had reached down and cleared the smoke around them, revealing a masked and hooded figured standing not a few yards away. Instinctively, she raised her gun and cocked it, poised to blast a hole through his head before he could get close enough to attack. Except… he wasn't attacking. The man just stood there, staring at them motionless. The gun lowered slightly as Angel gave him a curious look. What the hell was he waiting for? The warrior could have killed or at least wounded both of them by now, which she assumed was what he was supposed to be doing in the first place. Why would he wait? In spite of her enemy's momentary hesitation, however, the Half-Blood refused to let her guard down. Just one shot and there'd be one last renegade terrorizing the sky cities of Novus Terra.
…So why hadn't she fired yet?
"Move!"
Seconds later, the fresh corpse of one of their crewmen hit the ground in front of her with a thud, forcing the lookout to lower her gun and lose her aim on the man before her. Once the surprise had died away, she shot the terrorist a glare so full of hate that it could've made the bravest of men uneasy. Unfortunately, he wasn't even looking at her at the moment. Instead, his attention seemed fixed on Gregson as he beckoned the older man forward. A clear challenge. Angel turned to the mercenary, gauging his reaction. "What do you think?" she whispered, still keeping a firm grip on her pistol. "You want to take him, or shall I?" Before he had a chance to respond, though, it appeared someone else had taken up the challenge. The Half-Blood's stomach clenched painfully as she saw Sierus step forward. The way he seemed to lose all sense during a battle scared her sometimes, but now? It was like what little sanity he usually had had just snapped. He wanted revenge, plain and simple. Half of what he what he was saying didn't make a lick of sense. "Sierus, don't," she advised calmly, though she never stopped glaring at the red-hooded figure. "This one's mine."
((Just curious, how good is Ed's disguise? Would it make sense that Angel wouldn't recognize him?))