[Having this many (i.e., two) impulsive, violent, temperamental people on one space adventure can't be good for anyone's health.
Clover only zones out for a few moments—it's probably only a few moments; she's playing morphogenetic ping-pong with Light, images and thoughts and reassurances of safety while he's farther away, and when she checks back in, Arumat's already halfway gone.
It shouldn't surprise her that things have escalated this quickly but it does, somehow, to see Arumat charging forward, and she knows well how deadly the laser scythe can be but his target, she realizes, has a gun, one she's seen before (wanted for herself; Alice said no), and the situation isn't past salvaging but if he actually gets close enough to try to strike—
Clover means to yell his name, and instead just gets, like, half the first syllable right:] Asshole! [NAILED IT, and she's starting to sprint forward.] Cut it out! Get back here!
[ What do you mean? Two impulsive, violent, temperamental people equates to a good amount for someone's health!! Okay, no not really.
... He clicks his tongue, halting his movements for a moment. ]
Why should I?
[ Clover's the only one who could feasibly stop him here anyway. But after he utters those words he feels like an idiot because he could have just cast symbiology and killed the person that way. Well, fuck him. Whatever. ]
[why!! is he like this!!! it's like arguing with a child?? a child with a weapon????]
Because you're going to get yourself killed! [the potential murder of the other guy doesn't bother her at all though? She'll take a moment to be impressed that he's stopping for her later, but for now she's running to catch up with him still.] We're leaving, idiot, stop it!
He should've thought again before saying what he said about you. He barely has even noticed. If I had the chance to come over there completely, he would be dead.
[ ... grumbling. He is still a little indecisive about charging in but at least Clover probably has time to completely catch up to him like this and once she reaches him he'll actually. Probably. Begin to head back.
If he wasn't starting to cast that spell, that is. ]
[Man, she zones out for like five minutes and people start shittalking her?? But there's a moment where Clover stops, startled, less over what Arumat's doing or that this guy's said something and more that Arumat's so ready to take a motherfucker out on her behalf—except goddamn it he's about to cast a spell isn't he why is he like this]
Arumat! [She pulls at his arm and her voice drops so no one overhears her warning—] He's armed, it's not safe to start shit here!
[the murder isn't the problem. she doesn't have an issue with that.]
Tch. He's lucky you're here. He gets to live for another day.
[ Finally, Arumat decides to lay down his weapon (both spells and physical) and then he begins to turn away from that man. He was still sure he could have laid the man low with a single blow. ]
[Lucky she's here; that's a new one, she thinks, and snorts, a little derisively. She hasn't let go of his arm, and she's tugging him away—"elsewhere" might mean back to the ship, only because there's a pit of panic in her stomach she'd like to deal with somewhere more familiar.]
He was armed, moron. [She keeps glancing over her shoulder, even now that there's plenty of distance between them.] One shot and you would've, like, exploded in half, it was one of those dumb, like, military-grade mob guns— [Eloquent as always, huh, Clover. She gestures vaguely in front of her with her free hand, as if trying to indicate the weapon, and then her voice drops and she adds,] Don't pick fights over stuff like that.
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Clover only zones out for a few moments—it's probably only a few moments; she's playing morphogenetic ping-pong with Light, images and thoughts and reassurances of safety while he's farther away, and when she checks back in, Arumat's already halfway gone.
It shouldn't surprise her that things have escalated this quickly but it does, somehow, to see Arumat charging forward, and she knows well how deadly the laser scythe can be but his target, she realizes, has a gun, one she's seen before (wanted for herself; Alice said no), and the situation isn't past salvaging but if he actually gets close enough to try to strike—
Clover means to yell his name, and instead just gets, like, half the first syllable right:] Asshole! [NAILED IT, and she's starting to sprint forward.] Cut it out! Get back here!
no subject
... He clicks his tongue, halting his movements for a moment. ]
Why should I?
[ Clover's the only one who could feasibly stop him here anyway. But after he utters those words he feels like an idiot because he could have just cast symbiology and killed the person that way. Well, fuck him. Whatever. ]
no subject
Because you're going to get yourself killed! [the potential murder of the other guy doesn't bother her at all though? She'll take a moment to be impressed that he's stopping for her later, but for now she's running to catch up with him still.] We're leaving, idiot, stop it!
no subject
He should've thought again before saying what he said about you. He barely has even noticed. If I had the chance to come over there completely, he would be dead.
[ ... grumbling. He is still a little indecisive about charging in but at least Clover probably has time to completely catch up to him like this and once she reaches him he'll actually. Probably. Begin to head back.
If he wasn't starting to cast that spell, that is. ]
no subject
Arumat! [She pulls at his arm and her voice drops so no one overhears her warning—] He's armed, it's not safe to start shit here!
[the murder isn't the problem. she doesn't have an issue with that.]
no subject
Tch. He's lucky you're here. He gets to live for another day.
[ Finally, Arumat decides to lay down his weapon (both spells and physical) and then he begins to turn away from that man. He was still sure he could have laid the man low with a single blow. ]
Fine, let's go elsewhere.
no subject
He was armed, moron. [She keeps glancing over her shoulder, even now that there's plenty of distance between them.] One shot and you would've, like, exploded in half, it was one of those dumb, like, military-grade mob guns— [Eloquent as always, huh, Clover. She gestures vaguely in front of her with her free hand, as if trying to indicate the weapon, and then her voice drops and she adds,] Don't pick fights over stuff like that.