Everett equipped his shield, which was shaped and sized like a titanium, dark-blue door, standing near his companion, "How 'bout we do this the old-fashioned way? I handle its attacks, and you knock 'im out!"
"Specific choice of words there–alright, let's do this," Emilio nodded, sliding his sword into his sheath as he abided by his friend's conditions.
When it came to Everett, the broad, big-boned shielder was a gentle giant for the most part; killing was always the last option. It was an aspect of his friend that he appreciates and sometimes didn't; it reminded him of the type of person he'd become.
'Maybe it's because of how Vandread taught me during my journey, but killing has become second nature from me–whether it's man or beast, if they're a threat to me or my friends, I don't strike mercifully. Should I change that?' He questioned.