[ --and then he takes a breath, and his invocation surges into existence.
The same sort of feathery, winglike cloak from in the catacombs, but it whips up around them into existence with a surge of spiritual force and mass unlike before. Like something that presses down on someone's intangible existence like another set of gravity, or being in the presence of something absolutely massive. Some kind of gentle and intangible weight of grace that smells both electric and wintery. Like thundersnow.
Pulling his hands from his head, he breathes out then. A long, smooth, only shaky towards the very tail end of it exhale, before he turns towards Shouto then. Slowly, fixing one extremely pale eye and one dark as the void to his own mismatched ones, paleblood still coursing freely from his left. It's so inconvenient. That his tears are even blood in a place like this, it's so inconvenient. But that's such a small matter right now. ]
We have to go back. [ It's utterly calm yet, while spoken so very softly, with a shift in demeanor that is urgent and absolutely unyielding too. Gaze flickering across Todoroki's face in a searching and insistent manner. ] -- I need to go back.
[ It's an important clarification, and he leans in with a weight of gentle insistence, mismatched eyes still unwaveringly locked to mismatched eyes. This is important. Please. ]
If no one is there to fight it... [ if he isn't there... ] it's just going to find more people to kill. Something like that--
[ Dead serious, his tone. Gentle, as soft-spoken and delicate as the ethereal down of his cowl, but absolutely dead serious. ]
It could kill everyone in an entire city like it's nothing.
2/2
The same sort of feathery, winglike cloak from in the catacombs, but it whips up around them into existence with a surge of spiritual force and mass unlike before. Like something that presses down on someone's intangible existence like another set of gravity, or being in the presence of something absolutely massive. Some kind of gentle and intangible weight of grace that smells both electric and wintery. Like thundersnow.
Pulling his hands from his head, he breathes out then. A long, smooth, only shaky towards the very tail end of it exhale, before he turns towards Shouto then. Slowly, fixing one extremely pale eye and one dark as the void to his own mismatched ones, paleblood still coursing freely from his left. It's so inconvenient. That his tears are even blood in a place like this, it's so inconvenient. But that's such a small matter right now. ]
We have to go back. [ It's utterly calm yet, while spoken so very softly, with a shift in demeanor that is urgent and absolutely unyielding too. Gaze flickering across Todoroki's face in a searching and insistent manner. ] -- I need to go back.
[ It's an important clarification, and he leans in with a weight of gentle insistence, mismatched eyes still unwaveringly locked to mismatched eyes. This is important. Please. ]
If no one is there to fight it... [ if he isn't there... ] it's just going to find more people to kill. Something like that--
[ Dead serious, his tone. Gentle, as soft-spoken and delicate as the ethereal down of his cowl, but absolutely dead serious. ]
It could kill everyone in an entire city like it's nothing.