[Scott isn't going to admit it, at least not right now, about how much he appreciates this stranger guiding him. Not since Alex has anyone helped him, other than a brief explanation on what's going on and for him to figure it out on his own. Granted, part of it was due to Scott angrily telling them to fuck off and then all this happened, but it doesn't erase that growing emotion. Zekarion's hands are steady, making sure that he doesn't trip or fall over anything as they get closer to those destructive sounds. Maybe even supportive, but Scott knows that's probably a ridiculous thought.
His shoulders instinctively tense underneath his hold as they get deeper into the warzone. It's what it sounds like to Scott anyway. He wonders if this is what Alex experienced at Vietnam, probably not, but his mind can't help but draw that comparison. People are still afraid, there are people shooting and biting off commands, and he feels lost and uncertain about what's going on. He's almost thankful when Zekarion breaks through the atmosphere with that question.]
Not precise. [Perhaps in a surprising turn of events, much of the teenager's prior attitude has dropped. Instead, he's serious, almost focused, head tilted in the general direction of the ongoing rampage. Sure he's anxious, maybe even a little afraid despite all that bravado earlier, but he's doing his best to shove it down to eliminate the threat and answer the older man's question.]
Just make sure my head's pointed in the general direction of what I need to hit. [...] The bandage isn't what is keeping my powers in check. So, even when you take it off, I just need to close my eyes to stop my attack.
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His shoulders instinctively tense underneath his hold as they get deeper into the warzone. It's what it sounds like to Scott anyway. He wonders if this is what Alex experienced at Vietnam, probably not, but his mind can't help but draw that comparison. People are still afraid, there are people shooting and biting off commands, and he feels lost and uncertain about what's going on. He's almost thankful when Zekarion breaks through the atmosphere with that question.]
Not precise. [Perhaps in a surprising turn of events, much of the teenager's prior attitude has dropped. Instead, he's serious, almost focused, head tilted in the general direction of the ongoing rampage. Sure he's anxious, maybe even a little afraid despite all that bravado earlier, but he's doing his best to shove it down to eliminate the threat and answer the older man's question.]
Just make sure my head's pointed in the general direction of what I need to hit. [...] The bandage isn't what is keeping my powers in check. So, even when you take it off, I just need to close my eyes to stop my attack.