[ No sign it heard him. Is his soul that consumed it's unaware? Speaking like that... it sounds like such pure, cold, embittered hatred. And yet almost like that of...
...a child that wants approval? "Endeavor?"
He can't think about it too much, or even have another chance to try, because that is death barreling down on him. And above, to the side-- shit. His reactions are getting too slow for this.
(Hot. It's too hot. Even with Crown Clown, he can't think straight.)
Letting the tethers go slack but still wrapped where they were around the creature's hands, he twists his sword back out of the ground and around, light as a feather, as his cloak cracks out behind him on its own instinct. Rising in volume and size like giant wings, the feathered edges peel off into an easy dozen more of those ribbons, anchoring themselves to the edges of rooftops, streetlamps -- anything they can find -- and yanking him backward as much as he leaps back, with violent speed and hauling him upward once again ahead of the curved arcs of fire that crash down where he was. Landing this time with light feet on the gentle arch of a street lamp, he doesn't stop to even check to see if either of the other two waves of flame are still coming at him and instead spins his sword around for a moment, takes grim-faced aim --
And hurtles it like a six foot long, two foot wide plank of a spear at that oncoming freight train of a monster, with far more strength than someone with his apparent build should be able to.
And while it may be weightless to him, it is anything but to anyone else.
Come on, strike. Can't you feel that then? Won't that be some kind of relief? Some crack in that thing's form? Snap out of it! ]
no subject
...a child that wants approval? "Endeavor?"
He can't think about it too much, or even have another chance to try, because that is death barreling down on him. And above, to the side-- shit. His reactions are getting too slow for this.
(Hot. It's too hot. Even with Crown Clown, he can't think straight.)
Letting the tethers go slack but still wrapped where they were around the creature's hands, he twists his sword back out of the ground and around, light as a feather, as his cloak cracks out behind him on its own instinct. Rising in volume and size like giant wings, the feathered edges peel off into an easy dozen more of those ribbons, anchoring themselves to the edges of rooftops, streetlamps -- anything they can find -- and yanking him backward as much as he leaps back, with violent speed and hauling him upward once again ahead of the curved arcs of fire that crash down where he was. Landing this time with light feet on the gentle arch of a street lamp, he doesn't stop to even check to see if either of the other two waves of flame are still coming at him and instead spins his sword around for a moment, takes grim-faced aim --
And hurtles it like a six foot long, two foot wide plank of a spear at that oncoming freight train of a monster, with far more strength than someone with his apparent build should be able to.
And while it may be weightless to him, it is anything but to anyone else.
Come on, strike. Can't you feel that then? Won't that be some kind of relief? Some crack in that thing's form? Snap out of it! ]