"Fuck." Edward wondered whether Delite had already lost his head somewhere too, but there wasn't really time for those concerns right now. He had to trust in Victor's judgement and reflexes, and he supposed he'd just do that. Oswald did it all the time, after all. So he let himself fall to the ground to hopefully avoid any potential scythe attack and there were two gunshots. His first thought even curled up on the ground was a hope that Jonathan hadn't been mortally wounded.

Victor kept his gun pointed, having gone for both legs, as he'd suggested. It did tend to slow people down. "Hey! I don't know your book, but I'm supposed to be the Jabberwocky. So come off it!"