A REAL ICON
~8:30 AM | MT ARAPILES | Punks Wall
Before anything else could spiral out of control, Clare, recognizing the issues her presence may have on drone footage, flickered out of existence and out of view.
Then,
everything else happened.
Empowered by Aron's spell, the running climber lurched forward all of a sudden, his legs pumping up and down with an explosive energy that would have made an Olympic sprinter jealous...if it wasn't for the increased amount of profanities being spewed out from his mouth now. Regardless of how fast he ran, climbing shoes were still terrible for running in, rigid and cushion-less as they were, and the man made sure to let the world know just how fucked he was as he disappeared, leaving everyone in the dust. There was no doubt about it: his toes were toast!
And so were Vera's.
Her Doc Martens, polished to a mirror shine, was perfect for the rugged Australian outback. Her body, heightened to the apex of human capability in death, was perfect for inflicting violence upon the ghostly types. But her toes were still toes, and even the toughest human beings weren't all that tough. Thus, with foot reared back and aimed squarely at a square-shaped, bowling-ball-sized rock, the chainsmoking reaper experienced one moment of battle-frenzied exhilaration, followed by a transient eternity of agony as her boot crunched against stone, blunt impact breaking her biggest toenail before traveling up her bones, into her nerves, and up her leg.
It, frankly, sucked, and only by the merit of being a reaper were her bones still intact afterwards.
And for that rock? It shifted somewhat.
The drone, however, shifted plenty. Amelia had the perfect shot after all, and both
her rock and the drone couldn't have seen her coming. One written spell, one translocation, and her feet were upon the drone, cracking all four rotors in one fell swoop. The main body of the drone looked to be fine though; the chassis appeared to have been built tough specifically for rough use, and more effort would have to be expended to crack the delicate electronics underneath, but on the plus side? It definitely wasn't flying anymore, and all Amelia needed to do was to kick it in some bushes to keep this little scrap clandestine.
If, of course, there was much of a fight at all.
With Ogawa stalled by Vera's happy little accident, and Lena stalking the perimeters in anticipation for the ape-like monstrosity's evasive maneveurs, the wisp itself slowed to a stop. Another rip-roaring bellow resounded from its chest, only to be cut off mid-way as the wisp straightened, letting out a very human groan as it stretched its arms back.
"Damn son," he said,
"That's some Bolt shit."And then, as if wholly unaware of the presence of the five reapers who were moments away from banishing him to the Crucible, the ape reached for his head and tore it right off, revealing a young Caucasian man with a meaty potato-face and a shock of gelled-up blond hair. Sweat beaded down his forehead and he wiped it with his shoulder, before a glimmer of metal caught his attention.
"Aw shit. Hey Dave, ya knobdiddler! You crashed the fuckin' drone again!"A shout further away from the distance resounded, sounding whiny and petulant but wholly indecipherable. It only drew a scowl from ape-costume-man though, as he stormed off in the direction of the drone, squatting down right in front of Amelia.
"Damn, hit the ground hard enough to break all that? Clownass. Out here sweating my balls off for this vid and now we're gonna have a short instead."