[At the very least, the combined efforts of the three of them - Bigby buying them time, Childe washing some of that sludge away, and Fern cutting through it - to get to those people. His Finn side is winning out momentarily, save the people instead of slaying the monster, so despite the foul odor and the awful mounting negativity at the back of his mind he inches closer, until he's at a good range that he can unform his sword and stretch his arms out into split viney tendrils. The vines dive into the muck, splitting further and spreading, until they hit solid objects that feel like people.
Then, in one big motion, he wrenches them out and (carefully) tosses them aside for a few other Hunters to retrieve. Cool, one problem solved! Sure, he's now got a good coating of the sludge on his arms and it's now clinging to him mentally just as bad as it is physically, but that's no big d -
And then Bigby gets eaten.
Fern sees it happen out of the corner of his eye, a scene that, if the monster were a regular bird, really wouldn't be all that strange within the bounds of nature. A bird found some prey and ate it. Who cares, right?
Except that's Bigby, was Bigby, all that's left of him is a bloody stump of a leg. Fern's entire body lets out one large, visible ripple as he stands there, staring at the spot where Bigby was a second ago. Childe's voice is some distant thing that he doesn't pay any mind to, as the negativity from the ichor swallows him. He sort of just stumbles a little, grabbing his head as his grass keeps on twitching and sharpening, some of it into thorns of varying sizes, some of it fully blooming into venus flytraps and water hemlock and strangler fig vines twisting around his limbs and head. Even his fingers are sharpening into claws and teeth into fangs, and his eyes taking on a more slitted appearance. The shift in his body is chaotic and messy and reflect his currently volatile mental state of having just seen someone he likes very much get eaten, and how he did fuck all to prevent it from happening.]
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Then, in one big motion, he wrenches them out and (carefully) tosses them aside for a few other Hunters to retrieve. Cool, one problem solved! Sure, he's now got a good coating of the sludge on his arms and it's now clinging to him mentally just as bad as it is physically, but that's no big d -
And then Bigby gets eaten.
Fern sees it happen out of the corner of his eye, a scene that, if the monster were a regular bird, really wouldn't be all that strange within the bounds of nature. A bird found some prey and ate it. Who cares, right?
Except that's Bigby, was Bigby, all that's left of him is a bloody stump of a leg. Fern's entire body lets out one large, visible ripple as he stands there, staring at the spot where Bigby was a second ago. Childe's voice is some distant thing that he doesn't pay any mind to, as the negativity from the ichor swallows him. He sort of just stumbles a little, grabbing his head as his grass keeps on twitching and sharpening, some of it into thorns of varying sizes, some of it fully blooming into venus flytraps and water hemlock and strangler fig vines twisting around his limbs and head. Even his fingers are sharpening into claws and teeth into fangs, and his eyes taking on a more slitted appearance. The shift in his body is chaotic and messy and reflect his currently volatile mental state of having just seen someone he likes very much get eaten, and how he did fuck all to prevent it from happening.]