[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Y6tEFKV.png[/img]
[hider=❄]22 | Female | Freelancers | Meltwater Spring
Moya-no-Yume | Dagger | Physical | Frosted Sheen
Snowdrop Vestige | Sangfroid Convention 
Glacial Stream | Aqua | Rime Rose 
[Freeze, Slick] Damage X, Restrain, Extend, Construction, Trap, Enhance, Mark, Blink, Powerful

DAMAGE: D | SPEED: C | SENTINEL: E | 750

[Bronze Touch + Construction + Powerful + Slick] = 120 Mana

PHYSICAL: E| ARCANE: D | CHAOS: C | 134[/hider][sub][@BrokenPromise][@Majoras End][@OwO][@mantou][/sub][/center]
Klava didn’t really get it at all, but it didn’t matter.

The motherfucking ghost, after all, was just doing poltergeist bullshit. Nothing more, nothing less!

[color=6ecff6][b]“Fuck me shit cunt gah!”[/b][/color] the very maidenly maiden swore as the possessed barrel gave her the worst lap dance in the history of lap dances, before her form dissolved into powdered snow and reappeared behind Apollo. Blood, more blood than what reflected the actual severity of the wound she took, stained her indigo garments a deeper shade of purple. Her head bumped against the skinman’s ass as she landed atop the barrels and after a single second of more swear words through clenched teeth, Klava collected herself again.

God, fucking ghosts. Bullshit to the extreme. And of course, the robot was going to self-destruct. Oops, there goes Timekeeper, chasing after his sword wife again. Her mana was dropping too damn low as well. None of her operations really allowed her to do her main specialty of restraining traps. Fucking incompetents, all of them. Would it h-

Her eyes fell upon Protector. Armor scratched and scored. Weapon bloodied. The opponents she faced, the reanimated bodies of [i]teenagers[/i].

Right. All this was still her own decision-making, her own orders. Even built upon imperfect information, even without any discussion of magical capabilities beforehand, she still had the audacity to speak and to command. And, lacking any perspective or empathy, she told Protector, a [i]nursery caretaker[/i], to kill a buncha kids in brutal melee combat. Two more lay, collapsed but not as pale as death. The robot was still self-destructing, and their work still required them to approach further.

[color=6ecff6][b]“Hah…”[/b][/color] The Maiden dropped down in front of Billy Black, facing the flaming spirit. She probably needed a break. She wasn’t going to be much more helpful further in. So, once again, decisions were to be made. [color=6ecff6][b]“Protector! First priority, get those kids out! If you can rejoin us after, great, otherwise, otsukare!”[/b][/color] Her fist met an open palm, the remaining vestiges of her magical power surging into her Instrument. [color=6ecff6][b]“And for the rest of you losers, hop the fuck in! We’re gonna ram through this harder than the cowboys do at the ranch!”[/b][/color]

And with the cracking of an iceberg, Klava thrust Moya-no-Yume into the ground and performed her final Construction of the day.

[color=6ecff6][b]“Winter Warfare: Battering Ram.”[/b][/color]

Forming around Klava and Billy was a creation reminiscent more of a train than a ram. Enclosed on all sides but the bottom and the back, the construction was suspended on Slick skis, while the front featured a massive spike. The interior sported both horizontal handlebars meant for individuals to push against to propel the siege weapon, as well as a rudimentary steering system that involved one raised stake on either side, meant to be dropped down to turn the ‘vehicle’. In the absence of any ‘smart’ magical solutions, Klava had chose the most savage solution instead.

Run straight through the flames, straight up the stairs, and straight into the motherfucking dining room of these fuckwads.

[color=6ecff6][b]“Alright Billy, time to get warmed up before you kick Justin’s fangs in,"[/b][/color] Klava said, looking through the transparent ‘windows’ she had left in the front. [color=6ecff6][b]“I’m sick of these goddamn cellars and their goddamn barrels.”[/b][/color]