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[/center][right][b]Interactions:[/b] Lila[@NoriWasHere] Liz[@Skai] Fire [@Estylwen]
[code]Elysium Island (Team Aggro)[/code][/right][hr]

Lila’s shout for Sully cut through the battlefield and interrupted his jeers of, [color=goldenrod]“Hey hey, you you!”[/color] He snapped his head in the direction of his little bird buddy, his mouth forming a wide-O as he saw her ruffled feathers matted with wet blood and fresh bullet holes. Then, catching the rest of what Lila said, Sully realized that the injured figure the corvid was carrying wasn’t an oversized and overcooked skunk but Lyss’s cousin. He felt a wave of sympathy for the badly sunburned woman. His pale, Irish family had sought out St. Portwell because of the opportunities it proved, with the biggest opportunity being that it was almost always overcast so they never had to worry about the sun immediately killing them. Lyss’s cousin must’ve been a local, the fright of seeing actual sunlight for the first time turning some of her hair white. 

[color=goldenrod]“Don’t worry, cuz! I got you both!”[/color] shouted Sully, glancing off to the treeline in case that jumpy bastard came back to snatch up his glory. 

There was still some distance between Sully and the two wounded. Fortunately, he’d come packed just for such a thing. Sully picked up the SoakEm Mk V super soaker from where he’d dropped it on the ground and began pumping the cylinder as a battery-operated motor and lights started to flair up, a high-pitched whirring sound cutting through the actual gunfire peppering the barrier next to him. Sully shouldered the SoakEm Mk V and closed one eye, releasing his breath as he centered Lila and Liz in his sights. A shout to take cover from Ruby drew his eye up to the sky as he cursed and dove back behind the barrier, dirt peppering him as he landed roughly and tweaked his knee. Sully sucked in a pained breath as he grabbed at his leg and rolled onto his side, fumbling with his hand for the Chalice and took a sip. He felt something in the joint pop back in place as he wiped his lips dry.

Okay, round two. Nothing to come from the sky to stop him from hea-oly fucking shit! 

[color=goldenrod][b]“DRAGON!”[/b][/color] yelled Sully, pointing at the portal that had just ripped open over the mansion. 

The last thing anybody would see before the man disappeared behind a wave of fire and smoke was Sully coming up to one knee, tilting his head back, and lifting the Chalice up to his mouth. The flames tore across the ground as smoke filled the skies. It blackened the earth, vaporized the trees, and glassed the sand. Feasibly no man should have survived the blast of dragonfire, Emotional Fields be damned. However, in that moment Sully achieved his apotheosis, truly becoming the avatar of Broseidon, channeling the pure power of the popped collar and amplified by the feeling of having a true bro at his back in the form of Stormy’s shield that actually took the brunt of the attack. 

Sully chugged from the Chalice hard and fast as the waves of flames licked around the shield. His cowboy hat was ripped from his head by the blast and sucked forward into the inferno, incinerating in an instant alongside the SoakEm Mk V, whose hard plastic shell and sick decaling turned out to surprisingly not be dragonproof. The smell of smoke and burning hair filled his nose along with what little air he could breathe in that didn’t become fuel for the fire. Sully smelled another strangely sweet aroma, like a pig roasting on a spit over an open flame, unaware that it was the smell of his skin being cracked and cooked by the heat, the Chalice out healing the burns, the elixir running down his cheeks and dripping down his neck as if he were basting himself. 

Sully kept chugging until the metal of the Chalice became too hot to handle. The cup dropped from his hand. With the elixir no longer continuously healing him, the wave of the most insane pain he had ever experienced from the intensity of the heat was quick to get the best of Sully. He crumpled to the ground as the wave of fire cleared. His skin was like a burnt pie crust, incredibly dry, cracked, and oozing some kind of juice, with a nightmarish pattern of plastic and fabrics fused to his body from where his clothing and gear had melted from the heat. The world around him was nothing but ash. He convulsed as the red hot Chalice rapidly returned to its neutral silver, his eyes twitching, throat groaning, his hand just an inch away from salvation.

His eyes closed, he fell silent, and the convulsions stopped.

Then with an almost feral, Leon-like howl he opened his eyes. Sully pushed through the nuclear level of pain as he stretched his right hand towards the Chalice. Just an inch. He could make it just an inch. A centimeter. A millimeter. A couple of atoms. His burnt fingers felt the inexplicably cool metal of the Chalice, his lips cracking in a skeletal smile that became a terrified gasp as he nudged the Chalice ever so slightly. His eyes widened in horror as the goblet slowly rolled forward. An inhuman cry that was more like the moan of a zombie escaped from Sully’s throat as his fingers limply scratched at the ground, his strength rapidly fading, the Chalice just out of reach.