[ Nodding shortly—as clear an understood as if he'd actually said it aloud—Flynn falls into step behind Yuri, checking over his shoulder as they hurry toward the staircase.
They're still not being followed, but before they can reach the staircase, a door they pass hisses open in a cloud of mechanical steam, and Flynn is yanking Yuri out of the way before he can even think about it, gritting his teeth as he prepares for a fight that does not come. Something drips down from above, heavy and warm, and plops onto Flynn's shoulder. It runs redly through his pale hair: blood, or oil, or both. ]
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They're still not being followed, but before they can reach the staircase, a door they pass hisses open in a cloud of mechanical steam, and Flynn is yanking Yuri out of the way before he can even think about it, gritting his teeth as he prepares for a fight that does not come. Something drips down from above, heavy and warm, and plops onto Flynn's shoulder. It runs redly through his pale hair: blood, or oil, or both. ]