Oh, fuck. Nicotine withdrawal and that strange blade, fuck it, he wasn't gonna play along anymore. His arm, the arm that regenerated, torn into and fucking ow, goddammit. He was faster than he looked, really. But if Cake would protect X than Haine would protect his moron, Mauser drawn and aimed and accompanied by that low, metallic growl. The Dog seemed to be in agreement--no one got to fuck up the redhead but them.
"Back off before I fucking kill both of you." Ow, ow, ow...at least the arm hadn't been entirely severed, knitting back on and healing healing healing. As much as he hated those experiments, he kinda wished they'd found a way to make it not hurt.