It's all he can think of when he's faced with it. With her? Once upon a time... was it not said that Shades were simply humans? Unfortunate victims of the dystopian world. That's exactly what he thinks of when he's faced with what attempted to play the part of Tifa's mother. It's better that he has her attention, even if he's not sure how to handle the situation immediately. It'd be easier if Tifa wasn't involved, honestly.
He takes his sword into hand, wields it effortlessly, as if it hardly weighs a damn thing to him. But he's not using it to strike back. He's only using it to protect himself. From the threat of catastrophic, devastating nails. From falling debris. From anything else that might be coming his way. If he's injured, he doesn't bother to pay it any mind. Right now, it doesn't matter. He's looked death so many times in the face that almost nothing is likely to frighten him. All that matters is that he remains standing, in one piece, to make sure none of that attention falls onto his younger companion.
He's just an old man, after all. There's plenty to take his place afterwards.
When the banshee creature begins to draw forward, she's slammed into. It's Tifa. A Tifa Nier isn't familiar with, but... he can put the pieces together relatively quickly. At least he thinks he can. If they need to discuss it later, they can discuss it later. He readies his sword, using the opportunity that the banshee is piecing herself back together to attempt removing one of those limbs that Tifa's managed to knock right out of place.]
no subject
It's all he can think of when he's faced with it. With her? Once upon a time... was it not said that Shades were simply humans? Unfortunate victims of the dystopian world. That's exactly what he thinks of when he's faced with what attempted to play the part of Tifa's mother. It's better that he has her attention, even if he's not sure how to handle the situation immediately. It'd be easier if Tifa wasn't involved, honestly.
He takes his sword into hand, wields it effortlessly, as if it hardly weighs a damn thing to him. But he's not using it to strike back. He's only using it to protect himself. From the threat of catastrophic, devastating nails. From falling debris. From anything else that might be coming his way. If he's injured, he doesn't bother to pay it any mind. Right now, it doesn't matter. He's looked death so many times in the face that almost nothing is likely to frighten him. All that matters is that he remains standing, in one piece, to make sure none of that attention falls onto his younger companion.
He's just an old man, after all. There's plenty to take his place afterwards.
When the banshee creature begins to draw forward, she's slammed into. It's Tifa. A Tifa Nier isn't familiar with, but... he can put the pieces together relatively quickly. At least he thinks he can. If they need to discuss it later, they can discuss it later. He readies his sword, using the opportunity that the banshee is piecing herself back together to attempt removing one of those limbs that Tifa's managed to knock right out of place.]