[h3][color=MediumSpringGreen]E.A. "Bobby" Smith[/color][/h3]
[@ScarlettWaters16]

Bobby returned the side-hug, patting Jazz companionably on the opposite shoulder.  "Nice teamwork," he said with an unnecessarily toothy grin.  The danger seemed to have passed, at least in their immediate surroundings.  There was still the sound of fighting from around the corner of the building, but he felt like the three of them - Bobby, Jazz and Jared - had earned a break.  

[i]"Uh, Bobby?  Where's Jared?"[/i]  Bobby turned to look at the place where he had left the collapsed Jared, and spotted the now abandoned gun lying in a small pile of dirt.

[i]"What if he was killed in this realm?! Does he die in real life too?! What if we just killed a man?!"[/i]  Jazz appeared to be panicking.  Bobby stepped back to her and patted her somewhat uncomfortably on the shoulder.  He didn't want to seem too handsy, because A) Jazz was a giant murder-bird and B) she was [i]way[/i] too young for him.  Like, criminally too young.

"Nah, Twinkle's fine," Bobby reassured.  "None of us are really here, remember?  We're still sittin' back in that programmer's basement.  He probably just got pulled out 'cause there's no use in him flopping around on the sidewalk over here."  He bent down to pick up the abandoned gun, sliding out the magazine.  It was completely empty - Jared had gone out shooting, at least.  He showed the empty magazine to Jazz in hopes that it would make her feel a bit better.

Evidently, it didn't work.  Jazz collapsed in an ungainly sprawl, her bleeding leg folding like a hide-a-bed.  [i]"I want to go home,"[/i] she whimpered.  

"Yeah, that sounds good," Bobby agreed, kneeling beside her.  He raised his voice.  "Eli?" he asked, "You hear that?  Jazz here's down for the count, wanna wake her up?"