Welcome to Gaia! ::

He remember the volley a little too well by now, and Dawson had been practicing keeping on the move even when under heavy fire. It was hard to maneuver nevertheless between ducking behind his shield and strafing, zigzagging his way to Claude while praying she didn't land a good shot at his bad leg. And luckily, the spray was more concentrated at his torso.

Still, Dawson was reminded forcibly of how hard it was to hold his weapon up under the charge's sheer force, and he strained not to let it knock him back as he bullrushed her again. There was a little more thought placed into it this time, as his free hand rocketed out to grab one of her wrists despite the bullets flying out to greet it, twisting it up with the force of his own momentum. Dawson buffered the crash with his shoulder and then quickly, in the brief moment she was unbalanced, swung his shield in from the other side to help nudge her along her way.

Honestly, he was surprised the moves worked at all. It was clear on his face as he backed away, panting audibly and feeling the burn in his muscles as he sank forward a little.

"Well...now we cookin'," he commented, putting up a grin anyway.

hp: 18
damage: 11
charge: 3/3

"Hey now," Dawson protested, "don' joke about that. I missed ya, Cap'n."

The shot caused him to groan out loud as it hit his stomach. Ah yes, the familiar bruises..."Shee-ee-zus..." Some of the wind was knocked out of him, but the training was starting to really kick in. Don't stop moving, breathing control, handling his own weight.

As it was, Claude didn't move fast enough. Dawson bore down on her despite the protest of his newest injury, trying not to think of the risks of pushing his bad leg too hard. Persistence and practice, right? He wasn't built for a high speed chase, however, and so he aimed for Claude's legs to try and stop it before he got too out of breath.

Maybe Chris' insane workouts were finally producing results...?

hp: 12
damage: 8
charge: 3/3

Okay, now he felt bad. Maybe that last shot had been a little much...

"Uh. You good, Cap'n?" he asked, nudging her with his foot. "I, uh...hah. Got carried away a bit."

hp: 12
damage: 2
charge: 3/3

Someone yelled timber! from across the way as Dawson was blown over. Almost literally with the muzzle of the gun pressed on him like that. In what felt like the blink of an eye, he went from standing over Claude to flat on the ground, and the rush made his head spin just before the pain was registered.

Gasping in pain, he semi curled up on the grass and desummoned his shield, wheezing, "Uncle! Uncle. Jeeeeeeeeesus..."

"Yeah....yeah..." He coughed and grimaced as he touched ground zero. It was worse than any punch. "Well, least I gave ya a run fer yer money, right?" Wheeze. Just like good old times.

Dawson laid on the ground for a moment longer before forcing himself to sit up. The motion made him dizzy, and he clutched at his head with a hand. "Good job, Cap'n! Was a bit worryin' fer a sec there," he enthused anyway, even though his eyes were closed. "You got some free time? We gotta catch up."

"Lunch? Hah..." He touched the spot on his stomach where Claude had pressed her gun to. "Water's probly all i can handle right now."

Beat.

"But, I mean, I wouldn' say no either..."

Dawson's face, once taut with pain, immediately melted into sparkle eyed hope. "Really?" he asked, breaking into a grin. "I can go grab us water! Uh. Ummmm. Somewhere in the shade? Don' wanna sit inside just yet. Courtyard?"