Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-7838080-20131225042819/@comment-11588669-20140114030555

He nodded to the small Faunus, then took a potshot at the Grimm Boar's head. The round wasn't near powerful enough to penetrate, but it was more to daze it. He continued this pattern, but not enough to draw its ire. The creature couldn't seem to decide which was a greater threat: the one harrassing it up close, or the annoyance who was pegging it at range.

Ambrose began charging up his rifle, cursing internally. This power level was going to hurt. A lot. Maybe dislocate his shoulder. And tear a muscle or two.

He really hoped Beacon had some damn good medical service. And someone who knew when to shut up. Just one of those would be nice.

Sighing, he kept the trigger down, causing a build up of light in the barrel.