[He has two immediate thoughts: that Villanelle is not who she has been pretending to be, with that response and that precision. And that she's going to get them killed.
Bruce can feel the movement before it happens and it splits his attention in a strange way- distending the moment and stretching time out around them. The decision she makes to rush forward changes the flow of the air in this space, a signal that prickles at the nape of his neck before she has the chance to appear in his periphery, let alone to charge forward. But there are also the details from these last moments before. The resistance of the cloth as he begins to draw it away, the texture of it in his fingers, the stillness of the shape. There's something profoundly inhuman about it that keeps his weight on the balls of his feet, that keeps his knees from straightening, that keeps his limbs loose enough for a fluid response.
It's a screwdriver she uses and Bruce doesn't stiffen immediately, because that tendency to freeze is something he's trained himself out of. He backs up suddenly instead- is two paces away as the figure begins to melt. What are the odds, he thinks, that it's the same liquid that had oozed from the church's walls upstairs? Bruce has experienced plenty of synchronicities in his life thus far, it's the reason he doesn't believe this is a coincidence. One hand goes out blind, in Peter's direction- a telegraph of his urgency.] Go, go.
no subject
Bruce can feel the movement before it happens and it splits his attention in a strange way- distending the moment and stretching time out around them. The decision she makes to rush forward changes the flow of the air in this space, a signal that prickles at the nape of his neck before she has the chance to appear in his periphery, let alone to charge forward. But there are also the details from these last moments before. The resistance of the cloth as he begins to draw it away, the texture of it in his fingers, the stillness of the shape. There's something profoundly inhuman about it that keeps his weight on the balls of his feet, that keeps his knees from straightening, that keeps his limbs loose enough for a fluid response.
It's a screwdriver she uses and Bruce doesn't stiffen immediately, because that tendency to freeze is something he's trained himself out of. He backs up suddenly instead- is two paces away as the figure begins to melt. What are the odds, he thinks, that it's the same liquid that had oozed from the church's walls upstairs? Bruce has experienced plenty of synchronicities in his life thus far, it's the reason he doesn't believe this is a coincidence. One hand goes out blind, in Peter's direction- a telegraph of his urgency.] Go, go.
[He doesn't stop moving.]
It's the floor- clear the area-