[Hah! Crowe looks like she wants to make just that noise, for a moment, a bitter and unwholesome single laugh. Did she see him? On approach, or with the gun pointed at her, or in the moments before he fired, or the ones after where everything was someone screaming and his traitorous sneer?
...Then she realizes he's talking about right now, and acting like there's a sniper around.]
Yeah, a face I didn't recognize. [Crowe'd spit if she felt like explaining why. Instead she crouches, picks up her dart gun, pokes at its trigger.] With one of these. Different color paint, though. Don't ask me why.
[Reluctant as she is to turn her back to anyone, she angles herself enough to show the splatter of blue paint on the back of her jacket, right across one shoulder. She's sure it'll stain and be a pain in the ass for the rest of forever.]
no subject
...Then she realizes he's talking about right now, and acting like there's a sniper around.]
Yeah, a face I didn't recognize. [Crowe'd spit if she felt like explaining why. Instead she crouches, picks up her dart gun, pokes at its trigger.] With one of these. Different color paint, though. Don't ask me why.
[Reluctant as she is to turn her back to anyone, she angles herself enough to show the splatter of blue paint on the back of her jacket, right across one shoulder. She's sure it'll stain and be a pain in the ass for the rest of forever.]