Scales, huh? Vincent hasn't checked under his clothes, but that doesn't mean he won't have them in the wake of this storm. What with wounds and the Moon's effect... well, for a time anyway.
But what will they be replaced by?
There's at least enough bullets left to reload both his guns before he hides them away. One to holster, the other.... somewhere else, both to protect against unnecessary damp under his cloak. Of course they are made of sterner stuff and a little rain isn't going to impact their performance any. He was watching, but he left the matter of dispatching survivors to the silver haired man.
Vincent's clothes seem capable of repelling water decently enough for now and he has some layers. Yet his hair is soaked and that collar is probably doing the opposite of funneling the rain away from his neck. After a moment's pause to consider the question, he shakes his head.
"Not enough to matter." Gone is the earlier, mild voice that crept with a few words here and there hinting at a dry sense of humor. Vincent's tone has become monotone by comparison with its indifference to the question; though the truth of the matter is that he's trying to keep himself calm. His attention drifts to the truck so he doesn't have to meet Sephiroth's eyes overlong. Though he had certainly been observing him earlier.
"Think it still runs?"
If it doesn't, there's probably enough tears in the canvas top by now that makes it an inadequate shelter to wait out the rest of the storm. At least the windows of the cab still seem intact.
/comfort there there
But what will they be replaced by?
There's at least enough bullets left to reload both his guns before he hides them away. One to holster, the other.... somewhere else, both to protect against unnecessary damp under his cloak. Of course they are made of sterner stuff and a little rain isn't going to impact their performance any. He was watching, but he left the matter of dispatching survivors to the silver haired man.
Vincent's clothes seem capable of repelling water decently enough for now and he has some layers. Yet his hair is soaked and that collar is probably doing the opposite of funneling the rain away from his neck. After a moment's pause to consider the question, he shakes his head.
"Not enough to matter." Gone is the earlier, mild voice that crept with a few words here and there hinting at a dry sense of humor. Vincent's tone has become monotone by comparison with its indifference to the question; though the truth of the matter is that he's trying to keep himself calm. His attention drifts to the truck so he doesn't have to meet Sephiroth's eyes overlong. Though he had certainly been observing him earlier.
"Think it still runs?"
If it doesn't, there's probably enough tears in the canvas top by now that makes it an inadequate shelter to wait out the rest of the storm. At least the windows of the cab still seem intact.