[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5022268][img]https://i.imgur.com/yW2VDaL.png[/img][/url]
[h3]Eastern Yharnam, Hunter's clinic[/h3]
Staring down the barrel of the huntsman's rifle was quite possibly one of the most awkward experiences in Victor's life, most of all because both of them – him and the marksman – obviously knew that time was of the essence and that the first to react would seize the advantage, yet they both just stood there staring at each other for reasons Victor did not understand. His first instinct was to immediately dodge to the side, and indeed he could feel the Hunter's blood in his veins already burning with power to be released in a quickstep; both his body and mind told him that quickstepping to the side, adhering to the adage of “dodge the gun, not the bullet”, was the best course of action... yet he did not move. And the huntsman? He had had his rifle trained on the doorway before Victor even entered, clearly anticipating an enemy approaching. Logically he should have fired the instant Victor showed himself, yet he, too, hesitated.

In an instant that felt far longer than it was due to the surge of fight-or-flight induced adrenaline, Victor stared at the huntsman, taking a moment to figure out what about this guy was bothering him. Then it hit him: the huntsman's arms were normally proportioned to his body, he was no more hairy than was common for Yharnam citizens, and his eyes, peeking out from under the shade of a ragged hat, were not ruined by the scourge. Victor's habitual obsessive checking for signs of the scourge told him that this man [I]was not afflicted with the scourge of beasts[/I]! Mad or not, this man was still a normal Yharnamite, which probably meant that he still possessed some semblance of sanity, yet considering the destruction wrought on the room around them he was clearly hostile toward the Healing Church... so again, why did he not shoot a Hunter of the church?
Then he turned his thoughts to himself, and realized that his identity as a church Hunter might not be immediately obvious just now. With how battered and bloodstained his garb was after the encounter with the Mad One, his clothes could conceivably be hard to recognize as a uniform from the church. On top of that the small sword of the holy blade could easily be mistaken for something normal rather than a Hunter's trick-weapon unless one noticed the massive blade-scabbard on his back. It was likely, he figured, that the Yharnamite hesitated simply because he was not sure that Victor was an enemy.
What about himself, then? Why did he hesitate? He bore no such doubts, of this he was certain...

His eyes widened and heartbeat quickened even more than it already had when he heard Adelicia's voice behind him, a heavy realization dawning upon him: if he moved and the huntsman missed, he might hit Adelicia with the pretty eyes. He did not have time to look behind himself to ascertain whether she was in the doorway or not – and taking his eyes off the huntsman would likely prompt him to fire – , but he knew from the sound of her voice that she was close. Quickstepping to the side would probably be the best tactical choice; the sudden movement would probably cause the huntsman to fire, but miss due to the inherent speed of quickstepping, forcing him to reload his weapon before he could shoot again, allowing Victor to close the distance and eliminate him. He could get through this without a scratch, at least until he had to deal with the five other huntsmen and their Pthumerian.
But if he did, Adelicia might die. She was so feeble, so fragile... a shot like this might actually kill her. Him, though? He was a Hunter, and one whose strongest parameter was his capacity for regeneration at that; granted that he had already depleted some of that capacity from the last bit of healing his lungs and to mend his hand after punching the lamppost, but he still thought he could probably regenerate a normal gunshot. Even if he happened to be using quicksilver bullets, the guy was still just a Yharnamite; quicksilver gained its power from the blood of its user, and Yharnamite blood would be very weak.
Victor could take it. Worst case he still had two vials of blood, but regardless he had to take the shot. His mission was to protect Adelicia... with [I]all[/I] of his power, including the fact that he was hard to kill.

Bracing himself mentally for what was to come Victor took a sudden, aggressive step forward, turning himself fully toward the rifleman to present as big a target as possible. As expected the abrupt move prompted the other to pull the trigger, and with a flash and boom of gunfire something punched Victor in the lower left side of his chest, causing him to wince in discomfort, but also grin victoriously: it had gone as planned. The rifle was unloaded. He could move.
Ignoring the warm blossom of blood where he had been shot, trusting that the wound would close momentarily, he immediately accelerated to a mad sprint, ignoring the crunch of glass and wood under his feet, disregarding the six other enemies in the room, focusing entirely on the desperately reloading marksman. He was there in a second, maybe two, and attacked without hesitation, slashing diagonally across the man's torso, showering himself with delicious, invigorating blood as the Yharnamite stumbled backward with a shocked yelp, his weapon falling from his hands.

Footsteps around him. Angry shouting. Rustle of weapons.
Victor's grin widened, a pleasant shiver going through his body. [I]Finally[/I]. Time to hunt.

~~~

Inside the back room Marcus moved to attack the staggering Mad One, and just as had previously been the case the being seemed to make no effort to defend itself, simply allowing the blow to hit it on its upper right arm. It yielded pliably with a crunch of breaking bone, everything past the being's right elbow going limp, but once again the creature seemed entirely unconcerned with the damage it had suffered.
It reached for Marcus' right shoulder with its intact left hand, intending to sink its claws into him; it also opened its lipless, salivating mouth wide, intending to pounce and bite into his throat if it managed to catch him.

The lupine man-beast, meanwhile, seemed somewhat emboldened by the Mad One and Marcus occupying each other, lowering its guard and turning to Arcturus, starting to boldly walk toward him.
Outside the room a gunshot could be heard, from just past the door, quickly followed by commotion as if a fight had begun out there.