Everything happened very quickly after that. Luka watched from his angle (enough behind the man that apparently he was unseen) as Yuna approached, then he blinked and she was directly next to the man, pointing her weapon at his head. Not something he would have advised. They had no way of knowing if this person was hostile or not, and he would have bet against it, had he been forced to choose. But some among the others leaped always without looking, and for the moment, it seemed Yuna was acting like one of them.
The man’s movement was fluid and well-practiced from the look of it; clearly he had some training—whatever the equivalent of the army was in this day and age they’d found themselves in. Some things never lost their effectiveness, though, and a good leg sweep was one of them. In short order, it was Yuna who stared down the barrel of her own weapon.
A more rash and emotional man might have acted right then, but still Luka did not move. The man’s words confirmed that he did not want particularly to do her any harm, and he gave off none of the traditional signs of lying. Besides, the counter-threat was already on its way: Valerie. There were more words exchanged, more people arriving on the scene, and Luka suppressed the urge to sigh. This was ridiculous. He wondered if they’d all forgotten their negotiation training already. This was almost the worst way to go about it.
He figured this was probably where he should step in, and try to smooth things over as much as possible. Clearing his throat softly, Luka held both his hands up in front of himself, mirroring the local man’s gesture. “Forgive us,” he told the man, his voice oddly toneless. “We will be on our way as shortly as we can. Our transportation was… lost to us.” His eyes flickered to the crash heap, still smoking a bit, and then he slowly and deliberately made his way over to where Yuna was, offering her his hand to help her pull herself up. He was not overly fond of contact with others, but this was a necessary measure and not a casual contact, so he could overcome that. “We’re all under a lot of strain at the moment, and some of us are injured. As soon as we can leave, we will, Mr. Carpenter.” He'd hold off on his own introductions for now, but it was probably better to address the man by name.
He put great effort into making himself appear as nonthreatening as possible, but for someone who looked like he did, it might not honestly have done a lot of good. Still his tone was quiet, rational, reasonable, and he locked eyes with each of the others on the scene. Minato especially looked to be in poor condition, but it was imperative that they deal with this situation before they could relax enough to lick their wounds.
And in that respect, there was more than one issue to address. Not a one of them was entirely unaffected by what had happened at EVO, though whether it was Maiya’s death, the betrayal, or simply the utter obliteration of the comforts of their day-to-day routine depended on the person, he supposed. Luka, however, was a rational man first and an emotional man only when he determined it wouldn’t get in his way, and so he knew he had to deal with the immediate before the less proximal could be safely addressed. He dearly hoped that the others would understand this as well. Not only was this man not the correct target of their hostility, but it would be wrong to direct it at him. Pragmatically and morally.
The man’s movement was fluid and well-practiced from the look of it; clearly he had some training—whatever the equivalent of the army was in this day and age they’d found themselves in. Some things never lost their effectiveness, though, and a good leg sweep was one of them. In short order, it was Yuna who stared down the barrel of her own weapon.
A more rash and emotional man might have acted right then, but still Luka did not move. The man’s words confirmed that he did not want particularly to do her any harm, and he gave off none of the traditional signs of lying. Besides, the counter-threat was already on its way: Valerie. There were more words exchanged, more people arriving on the scene, and Luka suppressed the urge to sigh. This was ridiculous. He wondered if they’d all forgotten their negotiation training already. This was almost the worst way to go about it.
He figured this was probably where he should step in, and try to smooth things over as much as possible. Clearing his throat softly, Luka held both his hands up in front of himself, mirroring the local man’s gesture. “Forgive us,” he told the man, his voice oddly toneless. “We will be on our way as shortly as we can. Our transportation was… lost to us.” His eyes flickered to the crash heap, still smoking a bit, and then he slowly and deliberately made his way over to where Yuna was, offering her his hand to help her pull herself up. He was not overly fond of contact with others, but this was a necessary measure and not a casual contact, so he could overcome that. “We’re all under a lot of strain at the moment, and some of us are injured. As soon as we can leave, we will, Mr. Carpenter.” He'd hold off on his own introductions for now, but it was probably better to address the man by name.
He put great effort into making himself appear as nonthreatening as possible, but for someone who looked like he did, it might not honestly have done a lot of good. Still his tone was quiet, rational, reasonable, and he locked eyes with each of the others on the scene. Minato especially looked to be in poor condition, but it was imperative that they deal with this situation before they could relax enough to lick their wounds.
And in that respect, there was more than one issue to address. Not a one of them was entirely unaffected by what had happened at EVO, though whether it was Maiya’s death, the betrayal, or simply the utter obliteration of the comforts of their day-to-day routine depended on the person, he supposed. Luka, however, was a rational man first and an emotional man only when he determined it wouldn’t get in his way, and so he knew he had to deal with the immediate before the less proximal could be safely addressed. He dearly hoped that the others would understand this as well. Not only was this man not the correct target of their hostility, but it would be wrong to direct it at him. Pragmatically and morally.