[ They're all lucky that Gen, despite his many flaws, at least has good reflexes.
Ruby suddenly buckles, and Gen lunges forward without even thinking. And while Ruby doesn't get a gentle catch, she at least does get a catch. Gen's hand latches around her wrist hard enough to leave bruises, then yanks back hard enough to send an ache ripping through her shoulder. At least he catches her as she inevitable stumbles back from the hard pull, grunting as he supports her (delicate) weight with the same arm.
Too bad whatever style points he earned with that quick catch are mitigated by the fact he'd jostled the little table from the hasty movement. It has the jars wobbling atop the table where they sit, and Gen has to move just as hastily to grab at them to secure them where they sit lest they topple off and smash onto the ground below. ]
You moron! [ Sorry Ruby, but Gen's quick to snarl that rebuke practically into Ruby's face, given the way he's propping her up in his arm. At least it's followed by a marginally less terrifying -- ] The hell're you thinking, tryin' to run? The hell's that supposed to accomplish?!
[ Followed by an irate huff before Gen carefully parts his hand from the jars, making sure that they're sitting safe atop the table. Only then, he returns his full attention to Ruby, squinting at the blood pouring from her face; though he tries to maintain his usual brusque, uncaring demeanor, his voice is just a little tighter than usual. ]
Are you dying? [ Maybe a silly question to ask! But he means it in pragmatic fashion. ] I'm callin' someone on your side to come deal with this if you don't tell me what's going on. [ Mental correction: even if she does tell him what's going on, if she actually is dying, he's still calling someone. Like hell he's dealing with her dying in his arms and getting saddled with the blame. ]
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Ruby suddenly buckles, and Gen lunges forward without even thinking. And while Ruby doesn't get a gentle catch, she at least does get a catch. Gen's hand latches around her wrist hard enough to leave bruises, then yanks back hard enough to send an ache ripping through her shoulder. At least he catches her as she inevitable stumbles back from the hard pull, grunting as he supports her (delicate) weight with the same arm.
Too bad whatever style points he earned with that quick catch are mitigated by the fact he'd jostled the little table from the hasty movement. It has the jars wobbling atop the table where they sit, and Gen has to move just as hastily to grab at them to secure them where they sit lest they topple off and smash onto the ground below. ]
You moron! [ Sorry Ruby, but Gen's quick to snarl that rebuke practically into Ruby's face, given the way he's propping her up in his arm. At least it's followed by a marginally less terrifying -- ] The hell're you thinking, tryin' to run? The hell's that supposed to accomplish?!
[ Followed by an irate huff before Gen carefully parts his hand from the jars, making sure that they're sitting safe atop the table. Only then, he returns his full attention to Ruby, squinting at the blood pouring from her face; though he tries to maintain his usual brusque, uncaring demeanor, his voice is just a little tighter than usual. ]
Are you dying? [ Maybe a silly question to ask! But he means it in pragmatic fashion. ] I'm callin' someone on your side to come deal with this if you don't tell me what's going on. [ Mental correction: even if she does tell him what's going on, if she actually is dying, he's still calling someone. Like hell he's dealing with her dying in his arms and getting saddled with the blame. ]