[Firearms certainly aren't his forte: Loud and merciless, actively recoiling back upon use, rather than letting the user flow forward. But that said, he's not the worst shot. Even with the lack of glasses and the overall blurriness of this world he's practically grown used to.
His shots are far more spaced than Prompto's- carefully placed between the other man's burst of gunfire, trying to line up shots between the joints in their armor. The first is ultimately caught off guard by their appearance and downed by Prompto's rapid-fire attacked, though the second is obviously more prepared.
One last shot grazes the armor at the joint of a soldier's neck, worthlessly pinging away and lodging itself into a wall somewhere, and Ignis curses as he backs behind his own pillar, quickly pulling one of his knives out of his belt in his off hand. It wouldn't be useful for anything but stabbing, given that it wasn't made for attacking anything more threatening than some particularly tough root vegetables, but it's certainly better than nothing.]
Focus when you get an opportunity. And don't hit me.
[He trusts in Prompto's aim. The man's fired into beasts and MTs plenty of times before while the rest of them were engaging in melee combat, and Ignis doesn't think he'd hit any of them before. Not with his guns, at least.
(Magic was a different story.)
Regardless, he drops low and pounces out, taking a few quick half-aimed hip shots at the soldier still standing to occupy it, before lunging at it with the thin blade, trying to jam it into the join between the helmet and shoulder plates in the armor.
For a split-second he has the chance to realize that fighting these soldiers is nothing like battling MTs back home, despite the similarity in appearance and action. The lack of armiger or magic or healing potions, for one. And the fact that the joint isn't as easily accessible, letting the man grab him by the back of his clothes and bodily throw him back towards Prompto highlights it also.]
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His shots are far more spaced than Prompto's- carefully placed between the other man's burst of gunfire, trying to line up shots between the joints in their armor. The first is ultimately caught off guard by their appearance and downed by Prompto's rapid-fire attacked, though the second is obviously more prepared.
One last shot grazes the armor at the joint of a soldier's neck, worthlessly pinging away and lodging itself into a wall somewhere, and Ignis curses as he backs behind his own pillar, quickly pulling one of his knives out of his belt in his off hand. It wouldn't be useful for anything but stabbing, given that it wasn't made for attacking anything more threatening than some particularly tough root vegetables, but it's certainly better than nothing.]
Focus when you get an opportunity. And don't hit me.
[He trusts in Prompto's aim. The man's fired into beasts and MTs plenty of times before while the rest of them were engaging in melee combat, and Ignis doesn't think he'd hit any of them before. Not with his guns, at least.
(Magic was a different story.)
Regardless, he drops low and pounces out, taking a few quick half-aimed hip shots at the soldier still standing to occupy it, before lunging at it with the thin blade, trying to jam it into the join between the helmet and shoulder plates in the armor.
For a split-second he has the chance to realize that fighting these soldiers is nothing like battling MTs back home, despite the similarity in appearance and action. The lack of armiger or magic or healing potions, for one. And the fact that the joint isn't as easily accessible, letting the man grab him by the back of his clothes and bodily throw him back towards Prompto highlights it also.]