“You’ve got some irresponsible friends if they asked you to come to this part of town–lost or not.” As much as he felt the need to simply brush off this kid there was something–off. His instincts couldn’t identify exactly but he couldn’t shake it off as nerves either.
He carefully turns, heading down the path, “I’ll lead you to the next district. Its safer there.” he idly flicks his fingers against the side of his visor, soft lights appear in his vision as he glances back, the read immediately gathering the young man’s heartbeat.
Explosions kinda made their way to be apart of this kid’s normal and average every day life- as far as hunting for magical items would be considered normal and average. So when Jack Spicer, evil boy genius heard some happening not too far away from him, it didn’t frighten him all that much.
What did frighten him were the weird men running up over the dusty hills, pointing at him, and shouting “Get that brat!”. That was truly terrifying; because, for once in his life Spicer didn’t really do anything to deserve being chased. Other than existing he supposed.
With a loud shriek, the red head turned tail and ran as fast as his legs would carry him (which isn’t very fast being that he’s not very tall) under the fire hot sun. It was bad enough he was caught out here in this heat with black on but even worse now that he had to do physical movement under it’s glaring… glare.
Jack screams again, calling out for help before diving into a small hole he spots not too far away. Scrambling to get out of view, his hand lands in something wet (or squishy, or both), but he’s too busy trying to live to care right now. Unfortunately it turns out that the wet or squishy spot was were he needed to sit to achieve that. So he plants his butt firmly on is and pulls his knees close, whimpering quietly as they surround the exit and try firing shots in.