Rosso leaned back and allowed her dark laughter to resonate around the room. ❝You haven't changed /at all/, Reeve Tuesti. You are still reliant on vhat helpless man who obsesses about his unrequited love and thus, you are just as pathetic as he, nonezeless, let us be somewhat realistic – he zis nowhere in sight!❞ She laughed once more before continuing her refutation. ❝And therefore, there zis no one here to save you, /fool/. What do you plan on doing? For, I, Rosso ze Crimson, is formidable!❞
He cringed, for her words were true. In all their entirety. What could he, the glorified architect hope to do in a situation like this? He was meant for quiet desk work, not battles, or life and death situations. Reeve took a steadying breath and reached for the gun he held onto in case of emergencies. It was more for his own confidence than actual protection, but it would have to do...
❝ You listen to me now, Rosso. Vincent is my good friend, and ally. I’ll not have you speaking of him in such a manner. He might not be here now, but he I can guarantee that he will be here eventually! He’s just... A bit late, that’s all... ❞
The inventor backed a few steps away from the woman. Keeping a steady eye on her. He was a fair shot, but he was certain that bullets from his gun would be like raindrops on her skin.
❝ You can kill me, but all my work will still be here! You can’t stop the WRO, Rosso. ❞
