It was only when the ninja suddenly turned his way and threw something very sharp very near his face did Lipton catch a close enough look at him to see the eyes above the mask. Was that Hanzo? It had to be - this was his world as well as Sonya's, after all (strictly speaking, realms and all aside). Although, he supposed, as he watched the guy pull the thing towards him and brutally beat and skewered him, Scorpion might be the more accurate name, currently.
It disgusted Lipton, what Scorpion did, and it wasn't because of the gore. Gruesome he was familiar with; it was the cruelty of it that stuck with him. As much as he'd hated the Germans and other Axis soldiers they'd come into contact with, and had no qualms about killing for his country, he didn't wish them a longer death than necessary. Even in Speirs' rumoured executions, he'd offered them a cigarette before the shot.
"Thanks," he said, regardless, and whipped around, gun up at the spiked-man's fellows. They had some teeth on them, that was for sure. He heard the Major's order, and immediately dropped his gun, drawing out the knife he'd gotten from the supplies. He wouldn't question it, especially not now. He slung the rifle around his back and warily faced off against the men with blades. One of them looked away, growling, to where Sonya was jumping. Lipton only saw it as a blur in her peripheral, but focused instead on darting in to slit his throat, and then to leap out of the way of his friend's swinging blades.
Another rounded on him, and he squared off against the two of them, finding himself decidedly out of his element. He was a decent man at hand to hand and with a knife and all, but they had the decided advantage in built-in weaponry and numbers.
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ninetydegrees
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on 2011-03-09 07:00 am (UTC)It disgusted Lipton, what Scorpion did, and it wasn't because of the gore. Gruesome he was familiar with; it was the cruelty of it that stuck with him. As much as he'd hated the Germans and other Axis soldiers they'd come into contact with, and had no qualms about killing for his country, he didn't wish them a longer death than necessary. Even in Speirs' rumoured executions, he'd offered them a cigarette before the shot.
"Thanks," he said, regardless, and whipped around, gun up at the spiked-man's fellows. They had some teeth on them, that was for sure. He heard the Major's order, and immediately dropped his gun, drawing out the knife he'd gotten from the supplies. He wouldn't question it, especially not now. He slung the rifle around his back and warily faced off against the men with blades. One of them looked away, growling, to where Sonya was jumping. Lipton only saw it as a blur in her peripheral, but focused instead on darting in to slit his throat, and then to leap out of the way of his friend's swinging blades.
Another rounded on him, and he squared off against the two of them, finding himself decidedly out of his element. He was a decent man at hand to hand and with a knife and all, but they had the decided advantage in built-in weaponry and numbers.