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"Speaking of peashooters." Till would return his attention to the C96 that had been discarded in the fighting, hefting it up and pulling back the bolt so he could feed it fresh rounds. "MP40s are rather nice weapons. If you find yourself lacking a gun, you could do worse. I'll stick with this." With the gun reloaded, the Pole would re-attach it to a strap and heft his jacket back over his shoulders, tugging at the hem until it had settled properly. Like this, even with the broomhandle on the gun, it was almost impossible to tell the firepower he was concealing.

[color=ed1c24]"Thank you."[/color] Reaper's snarl contorted into a humourless smile, frothing rage barely concealed.[color=ed1c24] For those unaware. My name is「(Don't Fear) The Reaper, and I can make anything sharp. Knives. Sticks. Raindrops. And unl-"[/color]

"That is quite enough Reaper." It seemed that despite it's independence, Reaper couldn't quite manage to stay out when its user didn't want it to stay out. "Too much of what he said sounds familiar to me. Bluthund protocols. Donner and Blitzen Krieger... It's as if they're on the tip of my tongue."