[There's something about the fight-or-flight reaction that's always seemed on the verge of malfunctioning entirely with Kimbley; he can feel the adrenaline, the chemical energy flowing through his system almost to the point of overloading him, but for a brief moment he freezes, trying to figure out what the fuck he just witnessed and exactly what that's going to mean for him, and before he can really stop himself he's doing some bizarre combination of preparing to fight and running like hell, activating his arrays as he turns and trying to get some idea of the materials in the area as he puts some distance between Scar and himself...
...and as he does so, his gaze falls upon a familiar shock of blue against the brown-and-gray of Liore; an Amestrian military uniform, and a familiar voice catching his attention, and he isn't supposed to be here - ]
Archer...?
[He isn't sure what makes him do it; if he were a more duty-bound person, it might have been an unwillingness to draw an obvious enemy toward his commanding officer. Were he more noble, perhaps an unwillingness to draw an obvious enemy toward the closest thing he has to a friend. It's far more likely that the unexpectedness of Archer's presence simply startles him; either way, he freezes. Hesitates long enough for Scar to close proximity between them and press his good hand against Kimbley's back.
He doesn't feel the injury itself. He can hear some sort of sound that he can't quite place - tearing, perhaps, though it's heavier than that, sending an odd, reverberating shudder through his system; he's vaguely aware that there's blood, a lot of it. He's not thinking clearly enough to realize just yet that Scar hit him in the back, he probably shouldn't be seeing blood...
He drops to the ground; getting up isn't an option just yet - somewhere in there he knows better, but for now, that's how he's going to think of it. It's not an option. Yet.]
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...and as he does so, his gaze falls upon a familiar shock of blue against the brown-and-gray of Liore; an Amestrian military uniform, and a familiar voice catching his attention, and he isn't supposed to be here - ]
Archer...?
[He isn't sure what makes him do it; if he were a more duty-bound person, it might have been an unwillingness to draw an obvious enemy toward his commanding officer. Were he more noble, perhaps an unwillingness to draw an obvious enemy toward the closest thing he has to a friend. It's far more likely that the unexpectedness of Archer's presence simply startles him; either way, he freezes. Hesitates long enough for Scar to close proximity between them and press his good hand against Kimbley's back.
He doesn't feel the injury itself. He can hear some sort of sound that he can't quite place - tearing, perhaps, though it's heavier than that, sending an odd, reverberating shudder through his system; he's vaguely aware that there's blood, a lot of it. He's not thinking clearly enough to realize just yet that Scar hit him in the back, he probably shouldn't be seeing blood...
He drops to the ground; getting up isn't an option just yet - somewhere in there he knows better, but for now, that's how he's going to think of it. It's not an option. Yet.]