[Booker is not known for thinking things through and he's fully aware of that. Even more so when Songbird draws his big spiked fist back and sweeps it towards him.
Booker is almost out of Salts and bullets, but he needs to try and make this last. He stumbles backwards, attempting to try and dive away from the fist but only just flailing out of the line of the claws. Next time he won't be so lucky.
At least he's close enough to aim the barrel of his gun true to Songbird's face. Or at least, what should qualify as it's face. He remembers, vaguely, that the glass orbs that functioned as it's eyes were sensitive. He was a little busy drowning at the time but that did happen.
Hopefully the spray of the shotgun might do some helpful damage.]
no subject
Booker is almost out of Salts and bullets, but he needs to try and make this last. He stumbles backwards, attempting to try and dive away from the fist but only just flailing out of the line of the claws. Next time he won't be so lucky.
At least he's close enough to aim the barrel of his gun true to Songbird's face. Or at least, what should qualify as it's face. He remembers, vaguely, that the glass orbs that functioned as it's eyes were sensitive. He was a little busy drowning at the time but that did happen.
Hopefully the spray of the shotgun might do some helpful damage.]