Immobile- Conor was unable to move. This scared him. He had no control over his body, and that was something he never wanted to feel. Nothing I can do but try to break free. But this is shadow magic , I've always been more succeptable to it. I could break it, but it would take time and more energy than I want to use.
Then, Omega pulled a knife, and went towards him. NOW OR NEVER![i/] his mind screamed. Just as he was about to release the energy, he noticed that the immobilization was lifting, freein him of the trap.
[i] Heinz you old dog , he thought with a smirk. When he was free he sheathed his sword, he was having an incredibly off day.
No more blades .
Conor sprinted forward at his two opponents, Catherine and Clarrissa, at full pelt for a few seconds before planting his foot firmly on the ground, sending a line of uprooted earth shooting at the adversaries. Using his other free leg, he kicked forward, throwing himself into a single leading legged backflip, with a trail of fire from each foot arcing towards his opponents.
Now that the immediate threat of the enemy was taken care of, he took a few moments to survey his surroundings. Hundreds of shadow creatures, and one hell of a fight, or so it seemed.
The his opponent was basically in deep water. But Conor wasn't t done yet. His day had been a crap shoot from the start. His mind was clouded, he wasn't sure memories of his past had just now decided to surface, but he didn't Want to deal with them. He pushed them aside and focused on the enemy before him. It was time to get serious.
Calm your mind, empty it, feel no emotion. Fight for victory, for the fight. Fight to show you're the strongest. with that, he assumed a fighting stance, a broad smile cascading his face. He let loose a flurry of left and right punches; hooks, jabs, crosses , uppercuts, and ridge hands. Steel, earth, fire, water, air, and a number of other assorted substances he could create or gain access to in the facility was sent flying in a wide variety or arcs, swirls, and bricks; each following the rhythm of the punch he had just cast. He then broke into a series of flips and kicks, always changing his location in case of a counter attack. He was in the rhythm of the fight now. Ready to receive whatever they could dish out.