（ clever of him — he wouldn't have thought to use the earpiece in that manner. he makes the necessary adjustment and leaps with jim's warning in mind.
in another world, the jump — while not perfect — would have served him. unfortunately much of this town has gone to ruin in the wake of its abandonment. though he lands as lightly as a cat, it's in a spot that's soft and spongey, weak with rot. it throws him off, balance made precarious by the need to stay silent and hotly at war with finding his footing. if he scrambles for purchase against the roof, it will surely draw attention to their position — and the clone, he knows, has just been destroyed, that vague peripheral awareness of the chakra snapping like a taut wire.
falling is the only thing that doesn't endanger both of them, so rather than fight he lets himself topple backwards, hand already at the pouch on his thigh for a kunai and wire. he flings it backwards, more certain of what's behind him than what he had landed on, and the kunai thunks into the wooden frame of the building. the wire is too thin to take his weight comfortably, so when the arc of his swing smacks him into the building's side and he feels it cut into his hands, he lets it go and drops the remaining distance.
he lands heavily, crashing into something he hadn't even realized was there, an old wheelbarrow of some sort. even though he lands on his feet, he tips the entire damn thing to its side, ending up sprawled briefly on the ground. the noise is loud enough to wake the dead, and he grits his teeth as he pushes himself to his feet, drawing another knife.
if jim has any sense, he'll keep going.
(then again if there is one impression he's gotten from the man, it's not that he has an overabundance of self-preservation.) ）
no subject
（ clever of him — he wouldn't have thought to use the earpiece in that manner. he makes the necessary adjustment and leaps with jim's warning in mind.
in another world, the jump — while not perfect — would have served him. unfortunately much of this town has gone to ruin in the wake of its abandonment. though he lands as lightly as a cat, it's in a spot that's soft and spongey, weak with rot. it throws him off, balance made precarious by the need to stay silent and hotly at war with finding his footing. if he scrambles for purchase against the roof, it will surely draw attention to their position — and the clone, he knows, has just been destroyed, that vague peripheral awareness of the chakra snapping like a taut wire.
falling is the only thing that doesn't endanger both of them, so rather than fight he lets himself topple backwards, hand already at the pouch on his thigh for a kunai and wire. he flings it backwards, more certain of what's behind him than what he had landed on, and the kunai thunks into the wooden frame of the building. the wire is too thin to take his weight comfortably, so when the arc of his swing smacks him into the building's side and he feels it cut into his hands, he lets it go and drops the remaining distance.
he lands heavily, crashing into something he hadn't even realized was there, an old wheelbarrow of some sort. even though he lands on his feet, he tips the entire damn thing to its side, ending up sprawled briefly on the ground. the noise is loud enough to wake the dead, and he grits his teeth as he pushes himself to his feet, drawing another knife.
if jim has any sense, he'll keep going.
(then again if there is one impression he's gotten from the man, it's not that he has an overabundance of self-preservation.) ）