Ok, runaway train, bandits, cowboy gear, one blurry eye and a very real threat. This is either the best goddamn post-mortem hallucination ever, a dream, or some kind of heaven.
The fact that York even considers the last to have any weight to it probably says something about his idea of heaven. Now all he needs is a certain red-head and two working eyes- that's the one part of this that has him thinking it might not be complete bullshit. He always dreams with both eyes, always figured if he died and there was something after he'd be able to see properly again. Still. That means thinking about it and that'll take more time than he can afford to give when there are punks with guns climbing to the roof and he's pretty sure he ought to stop them.
Since he's kitted out like a old west sheriff and stuff. The details are also things he's not thinking about. Badguys need their asses kicked- York? Is able to breathe, able to move, able to haul himself right on up after them and start firing. The stun guns are a little clumsy compared to the military elegance of a solid sidearm-
But it only takes a few shots for him to get the hang of it.
C
"Aw fuckberries." That sure is a track switch that'll send the whole train careening off into a canyon or into a mine or- something. One branch looks good! One (the one they're heading for way too quick for York's piece of mind) looks like fiery death waiting to happen if they don't find a way to swap it back. There are bikes, there are more guns, more bandits, and hey- jumping from a train onto one of them to go save the day in a less ambiguous way isn't the most difficult thing York's done in his life. Hell it's not even in the top three.
Jumping with someone else to cover him? That's the tricky bit. "So- how far can you jump, how's your timing, and are you a good distance shot?"
Things he needs to know as he starts gauging the distance, one heel braced on the wall behind him.
Agent York | Red Vs Blue
Ok, runaway train, bandits, cowboy gear, one blurry eye and a very real threat. This is either the best goddamn post-mortem hallucination ever, a dream, or some kind of heaven.
The fact that York even considers the last to have any weight to it probably says something about his idea of heaven. Now all he needs is a certain red-head and two working eyes- that's the one part of this that has him thinking it might not be complete bullshit. He always dreams with both eyes, always figured if he died and there was something after he'd be able to see properly again. Still. That means thinking about it and that'll take more time than he can afford to give when there are punks with guns climbing to the roof and he's pretty sure he ought to stop them.
Since he's kitted out like a old west sheriff and stuff. The details are also things he's not thinking about. Badguys need their asses kicked- York? Is able to breathe, able to move, able to haul himself right on up after them and start firing. The stun guns are a little clumsy compared to the military elegance of a solid sidearm-
But it only takes a few shots for him to get the hang of it.
C
"Aw fuckberries." That sure is a track switch that'll send the whole train careening off into a canyon or into a mine or- something. One branch looks good! One (the one they're heading for way too quick for York's piece of mind) looks like fiery death waiting to happen if they don't find a way to swap it back. There are bikes, there are more guns, more bandits, and hey- jumping from a train onto one of them to go save the day in a less ambiguous way isn't the most difficult thing York's done in his life. Hell it's not even in the top three.
Jumping with someone else to cover him? That's the tricky bit. "So- how far can you jump, how's your timing, and are you a good distance shot?"
Things he needs to know as he starts gauging the distance, one heel braced on the wall behind him.