Nyna was looking around, not fully paying attention to everything as she was trying to spot the man who had in a way helped them escape. No sight of him. As she turned back to look at Celes she heard footsteps soon followed by the voice of the bounty hunters. So, they were using them as hostages?
Nyna began to take a step but stopped when she saw the point of the dagger and gave a small gulp. She thought for a brief moment, trying to decide what to do. Looking at the way the man held the dagger, she knew she'd be able to disarm him in one smooth movement, but she stopped herself before doing anything. She glanced over to celes, seeing the other man's weapon aimed for her new friend. That gun would be a bit more difficult to dodge at such close range, and the man was far enough away to pull the trigger before she'd reach him.
Looking back to Balthier, she stood there, her mind wandering over the different possibilities. Would he give them up, just as he had almost done in the restaurant? Would he find a way to protect them both? Just one of them? Or was he expecting the two of them to do something? Either way, she wasn't so sure she liked her fate resting in the hands of these men.
Celes, feeling the heat of pursuit, brought her mind forward to a singularly cold thought: Ice. Her fingertips tingled at the sensation of the magic flowing through her veins, and she was fully prepared to lob a ball of ice from the air toward the hunters. She heard the gun more than saw it as the barrel pointed straight at her.
“Price? You can't be serious. You want us?” It never rains, she thought, it always bloody pours. She took a steady breath and kept still, not wanting to provoke the gunman further. Minutes passed, and felt cold in her veins once again – this time, not from old magic but from a knot of worry, of fear. She'd faced down the worst of men and monsters, but nothing could hold back the bite of a bullet. She's never liked projectile weapons, and guns? Honestly, they frightened her. One could block assailing magic, learn to dodge sharpened blades. Bullets worked their damage far faster than any spellcaster or swordslinger. She felt a lump in her throat.
Balthier? Her mind went nearly blank at the recognition. Balthier. Sky Pirate. Renowned across the lands as a brigand and thief. She looked past the gun, past the gunman and stared straight at the pirate, “You're bleeding joking. You're Balthier? And – wha – We are not his 'girlies'!” And another gun joined the fray.
Celes was sincerely beginning to despise her decision to leave the theatre for the night.
((For all the post, this is almost nada in way of contribution.))
((OOC: Guys, I am SO sorry for taking so long to post for Fran. >o< The compys at school have been retarded lately, and the one at my house is for WoW only, so... Here it is!!! ))
The Strahl was hovering above the scene, its engines whirring like Fran's insides.
Where was Balthier? The only reason he would ever, ever be late like this was if he ran into trouble... So, with some amount of finality, she pushed the Strahl into gear and swooped down low enough that Balthier would be able to see her hovering just outside the city.
With her face calm and serene, she grabbed her weapon and pulled the hoverbike from where she last stashed it, kicking it started and jetted from the Strahl, her white hair whipping behind her.
Balthier...keep yourself out of trouble long enough for me to get you...
(I really apologize if this SUCKS. >_>; Still haven't played FFXII for a long time, and it's been a long time since I've written Balthier now, too. D: Since it's been so long since we've had activity and Zera still hasn't posted, I'm going to NPC Fran a bit - sorry, Zera, if you see this feel free to take over with her!)
Balthier's expression became half-amused, half-irritated; her tone wasn't exactly that of an admirer's. He maintained his calm, however, as though he were entirely unaffected by their predicament. "Yes, that would be my name. I take it you've heard of me?"
He glanced quickly around, taking note of their situation, planning rapidly. The street was nearly empty now but for themselves, which both made running an easy option and a foolish one. True, the gun-wielder among his pursuers had already proven himself a bad aim, but Balthier didn't want to test that when the man would have a clear shot. He had been shot before, and it wasn't something he wanted to repeat. Painful experience, that.
Balthier didn't have to think long to come up with a strategy, however - a sudden, bright light illuminated the street, and a glance up found the Strahl hovering overhead, waiting. Lowering his eyes, he regarded the group in front of him with a small smirk.
"Well, boys, this has been fun, but it seems it's time for me to take my leave."
"Wha--" The gunman didn't even have time to finish his sentence. Balthier was easily the faster shot, and had sent a bullet into his shoulder, a more disabling aim prevented by Celes' presence between them. The man swore loudly and viciously; his partner, taken aback, was caught by surprise and therefore slow to react. Taking advantage of the confusion, the sky pirate leaped easily onto the ladder hanging from the airship, but he didn't yet begin to climb. Turning back to the girls, he gestured toward the ship, suggesting that they join him.
"Let's get out of here, then, shall we? I'd like to leave before any more of them come out of the woodwork."
“Of all my luck. Of course the one night I decide to go out on the town, I get tangled up with a thief. Not just any thief, but a man wanted through most of the world. Tell me, for I've always wanted to know: do you fancy yourself to be a dashing rogue? A treasure hunter?” Treasure hunter her arse. HE'D JUST SHOT AT HER! Well. Past her. But Celes had clearly felt the air cut with the whiz of the bullet. She glared through the bright lights of the man's calvary, her anger at the thought of what would have happened had he missed devouring her fear at the thought of what would have happened had he missed.
Despite the conflict of emotions, the diva found her legs moving forward of their own volition. Taking quick but rigid steps toward the ship, the man, and what both represented, Celes couldn't stop the feeling of deja vu. The rogue offering his vessel this time had darker hair, and surely there was no raging cephalopod in sight, but the resemblance to the glory days was uncanny. She neared the ladder. Shaking hands reached for the grainy rope. Celes wasn't certain she trembled out of anticipation or fear. She looked back to the streets of Treno, then up to Balthier.
If she backed away now, she could return to her life of comfort and ease. Singing. Fans. Bouquets and adoration. The moment she started up the ladder, there'd be no turning back. It'd be the old life again, near-misses and critical hits. She'd return to the life of a traitor, a fighter, and an occasional murderer. But, Celes countered in her own mind, she'd have a sense of self once more. She'd no longer feel the longing of the past, she'd be living in the present again. The theatre, luxury. The ship, adventure. She gripped the rope with a renewed strength. Comfort be damned, familiarity won out. Even if familiarity might get her killed.
Nyna's eyes quickly glances from one person to another, making sure of what everyone was doing before taking her own movements away from her captor.
Looking up at the man who had been aiming the blade at her, she quickly grinned and ducked, dashing under him and between his legs, quickly kicking him in his butt to knock him towards his buddy to add to the confusion.
Still, wasting no time, the young Al-Bhed quickly began to dash after the woman she had recently become friends with, hoping that the magnificent airship in front of her would lead her to safety away from these sorts of troubles, away from life on the streets, and even possibly to a happy life with her brother.