Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was rather sad, if one considered it, that so many were required to disarm one man and a puppy, but the group's leader didn't seem to mind the sacrifices that had to be made to that end. Noting that Yuri was duly restrained, he finally made his approach, his hands stuffed nonchalantly into his pockets. "Get him down," he said offhandedly, prompting the men holding the swordsman to deliver enough of a kick to the backs of his knees to cause them to buckle. He reached to take the sword from his hand, "You are so much more trouble than you're worth. How do you suppose I'd ought to pay you back for this mess, huh?"

It was at this inopportune moment that Luke, drawn to the correct location by the sounds of combat, appeared in still-open doorway, staring in at the scene with a bewildered expression. He wasn't terribly accustomed to seeing blood in any quantity, and the splatters painted across the floor and the still-bleeding wounds afflicting the warehouse's various occupants were nearly enough to turn his stomach. He could easily pick Emil and Yuri out of the fray, though, he gave himself no option but to steel his wits and face forward. "What the hell is going on in here? Give back my friends!"

"Like hell!" He was angry enough about being left behind at the hospital - despite insisting that he was fine - and now he was being told to go back? Yeah right. He wasn't going anywhere as long as his friends were in danger.

"Oh, so your co-star made it after all!" the leader said, waving the commandeered sword in a flourish. "Welcome, annoying brat! I was hoping you'd show. Take care of all my vendettas in one fell swoop, as it were." The remaining of the uninjured or lesser injured thugs not occupied with restraining Yuri advanced on the recent arrival, brandishing their weapons threateningly.

Luke took a step slightly backwards, his hand wandering to his waist and pulling off the sole premier ball on his belt. A deft movement of his hand released a green and white Pidgeot that spread its wings broad, taking in the scene in wide-eyed astonishment.

"Leste, Whirlwind them!"

She didn't need to be told twice; these were clearly bad people. The Pidgeot flapped her wings violently, stirring up a wind that barreled the approaching thugs backwards and over Yuri's captors, freeing the man.

"Damn it, would you stupid kids stop messing things up already?!" The man's angry tirade was interrupted by an unexpected and unexpectedly powerful blow, and he staggered backwards, releasing his grip on the sword which proceeded to clatter against the floor.

Luke made ample use of Leste's gust to maneuver himself towards Emil, commanding the Pidgeot with a vague "cover me!" Leste had no problems with vagueness, and she followed after her trainer dutifully, screeching and batting away pursuers with large wings. He removed his sword from its scabbard as he approached the chair to which the boy was bound, cutting away the ties and pulling off the gag. "Hey, are you okay?"

The man matched Yuri's expression, and in one fluid motion he retrieved the gun he had used earlier and raised it, matching his opponent's threat with his own. "What was that about payback?" he growled. The minion-esque assortment stood still, their attention locked on the scene, anticipating whether their leader would be murdered or become a murderer. Some of the greener fighters were already beginning to slip out of the warehouse, fleeing the scene.

Luke turned his attention to the same scene the others viewed, brow furrowed. In the grand rock-paper-scissors scheme of fighting, gun beat sword every time. Bullets were faster than muscles and had a quicker reach. Even if the guy had made claims about not wanting to kill anyone, it seemed pretty obvious that that intent had changed.

Maybe a single sword had no power against a gun... but Luke had a sword as well, and he sided with Yuri. Thoughts of consequence - thoughts in general, really - were pushed aside by the urgent need to help his friend, and without being particularly aware of his actions, he rushed the man, sword drawn.

"What..." The gun fell away from his hand, no longer threatening Yuri.

The remaining thugs, on seeing the ruthless demise of their leader, lingered only momentarily before departing the warehouse, presumably to regroup though possibly to scatter aimlessly. One way or another, the group was obviously disbanded.

It wasn't long before Luke was trembling, managing a few steps backwards before staggering and falling backwards, effectively seating himself on the dank floor. He made every effort not to look at the pooling blood despite his inability to turn his head from it, his features pallid. Leste, unsure of how to react to the situation or how to approach her trainer, lingered near Emil, staring with dreading eyes at the aftermath of the horrible events.

Leste raised a wing to wrap protectively around the boy, understanding full well herself just how terrible the events they had witnessed were. She wasn't sure what to do... Her trainer was clearly ailing, but she couldn't bring herself to move to his side.

Luke looked listlessly up at the offered hand, still shaking, and struggled to find the voice for a reply. Even when he managed that, his thoughts didn't follow, "Wha-- N-No, I..." He was supposed to just walk away? He couldn't stand - he could barely even breathe. He didn't know what to do, what he was supposed to do, what he could do... but whatever it was, he was sure none of it was possible. His thoughts remained firmly affixed to the sword still embedded in the man's side.

At mention of Emil, a faint memory of telling the boy that he didn't carry a sword to hurt people reverberated into his thoughts. He'd said the same to Rosie once before. How was he going to face either of them...?

As difficult as it was to move, though, he seriously did not want to be in that place anymore. He pushed to his feet unsteadily, reaching out hesitantly to retrieve his sword. Carefully, as though closing his fingers around a hot iron, he pulled the blade free and returned it to its sheath, not as prepared as Yuri to clean the steel. He didn't really care, though; he didn't even really want to carry the sword anymore.

Leste cooed gently and nudged Emil towards the exit, having gathered that they were leaving. And a good thing that they were.

The sunlight that flooded the pier was a somewhat pleasant change of environment, though the salt of the sea breeze was almost nauseating. He paused at the question, replying in a murmur, "Hotel. Near the park." He was staying with Emil, though. Would the boy even want to stay in the room with him anymore? He didn't even want to stay in the room with himself.