Noctis
wintersoldier
Kaithe Dame
Crimson Flame
Neziul
X Fiendfyre X
Silent Showers
Ivar
The Otter@ERode@AThousandCurses@Sifr
Davil took in his surroundings as Chunji spoke, then met the boy's gaze with his own. The wounded Wund shuffled a bit closer, arms swaying like al dente pasta. He held no semblance of panic in him at the moment - perhaps a result of the numbing setting in and affecting more than his body, but his mind as well. "The world's a weird place. We live somewhere where, provided the conditions are right, we can not only experience the joy of suffering in a world running dry of its own lifeblood, but by sucking out that lifeblood faster like greedily slurping the last droplets of a milkshake, we can also suffer in an entire other world too."
The winged warrior's pupils were dilated, and as he looked around, his posture took up almost that of a stumbling drunk. He'd continue, saying, "Everything's imperfect, so just do the best you can, man, and use those healing spells on me. You're a good guy, you know that? You've been a good friend to me, and that really speaks to my soul, whatever that thing's actual name is. Did you know we have those? They just have... fuckin'... names, man, and you can do stuff with them. Crazy."
His eyes were locked on the dome, but he continued to address Chunji as he inquired further. "I think my Personal Barrier's trapped somewhere. Now and again, when the anxiety goes away, what remains is the feeling like there's more. I don't think I was meant for this, but I'll try."
While continuing to stare at the dome, faint wind began to gather around his feet, coating them slowly - or rather, that wasn't it at all. It was most likely that his legs were coated the entire time, in a Personal Barrier so faint and paper-thin as to be near invisible to the naked eye until the moment it flowed and defended. It pulled and pulled, desperately struggling to reach above his waist as he stood there, expression vacant as he observed the battlefield in front of him.
As the battle inside raged on, the faintest sounds could be heard from further out in the forest - the cracking of dry branches, the clanking of armor, and the nondescript chirps of various voices speaking what sounded like gibberish. The woods would be too dense to see for most, but were Chunji to look around, he would see what looked like various humans dressed in laborers' clothes wielding pitchforks and pickaxes. They shambled like the dead, though they appeared alive. Further behind them were what looked to be guardsmen, dressed in minimal armor and wielding various spears, pikes or swords. They were around the entire perimeter, all shuffling their feet towards the area that the class found themselves in.
Rio tapped his feet with his phantom summoned next to him, keeping an eye out for the origins of the sounds, but with his primary attention on the dome. He'd tap in mentally to chime in, saying, "A distraction? Regardless, I'm gonna keep my focus on this dome shit. But I ain't seeing anyone emergin'."
Chloe, on the other hand, was very much focused on the perimeter, her hands in front of her as if to dust the first thing to leap out at her from behind bushes. "I don't think we should be ignoring that," she'd stutter out within the mental link.
More trees would begin to uproot themselves and fall, once again aiming to crush the students under their weight - more repeatedly now, and with far more ease in their descent. The area also began to feel hot, as if ready to burst aflame at a moment's notice. All the while, those footsteps and voices grew ever closer with each passing second.
@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark
As the barrage rained down on Alto, it could be said to appear almost one-sided. He was grabbed and yanked by tendrils once Iraleth had broken free, slashed and stabbed, and yet through it all, his defenses held strong, the strikes never seeming to quite break through. The average PB would have long since shattered, between Hildegunde's drilling bullet and the relentless assaults of the warriors of light and darkness. Whether it was the overcharge's immense battery, a large reserve of essence from the instructor, or perhaps a combination of those factors and others, not one strike among the many broke through. "The righteous indignation of a paladin, and the hunger of an Umbralist... though, that's not quite been confirmed yet, has it? Even so, it's apparent that you fight with a temper, with voracity - and in that respect, you would have many things in common with that death cult regardless."
The good instructor's expression was cold, his words biting, his demeanor one of an owner scolding his pet. While he held respect for Iraleth's approach and mannerisms, it was apparent that the polar opposite could be felt from Alto's attitude towards Ciara. In Ciara's head, as she grasped tighter to the instructor with her tendrils, the distant sounds of screams and flames could be heard in her ear. Alto's attention was split between her and Iraleth, but something had taken specific attention to Ciara upon the instructor's words reaching their end. What could only be described as the guttural howls of the damned in the pits of the ninth hell, rang out in the shadow caster's ears and in her mind, fighting against her own inner voices in volume. They wailed for the deliverance of an end, and screamed for redemption for their betrayal. As this happened, more thorny tendrils would lash out at Ciara and Iraleth from nearby walls, sturdier in construction than before, aiming for specific joints like the backs of the knees, ankles or elbows.
"I'll get to you in a moment, Ms. Kyrios," Alto would mutter, a small smile once more creeping onto his face as he stepped towards Ciara. He moved with the speed of a trained assassin despite the bindings of the tendrils, and pried his sword arm free from their grasp as he stepped. In a single instant, his sword slashed towards Ciara's midsection, dueling her one-handed while weighed down and shifted by her bindings. He would continue slashing and stabbing away at her like this, parrying and deflecting attacks coming his own way. Despite the crushing darkness, it appeared as if he could see and strike without issue. His eyes were catlike inside the shadows, as if he were a hunter of prey in a dark forest. "I have a remnant to attend to. Or, gods willing, you're welcome to join in from over there!"
The dome around them, notably, would begin to make cracking sounds - and upon looking, one would indeed see that the inner walls of vines and thorns were slowly crumbling. A pressure filled the dome, as if rising heat from an oven of gargantuan size. More thorny tendrils and spears would descend upon the two students inside, growing denser and sharper with each new batch. Yet as this happened, the heat increased, and the cracks began to show more, even on the outside.
ASCENDIA, ROOM 103 FOUNTAIN, OUTSIDE THE DOME
Davil took in his surroundings as Chunji spoke, then met the boy's gaze with his own. The wounded Wund shuffled a bit closer, arms swaying like al dente pasta. He held no semblance of panic in him at the moment - perhaps a result of the numbing setting in and affecting more than his body, but his mind as well. "The world's a weird place. We live somewhere where, provided the conditions are right, we can not only experience the joy of suffering in a world running dry of its own lifeblood, but by sucking out that lifeblood faster like greedily slurping the last droplets of a milkshake, we can also suffer in an entire other world too."
The winged warrior's pupils were dilated, and as he looked around, his posture took up almost that of a stumbling drunk. He'd continue, saying, "Everything's imperfect, so just do the best you can, man, and use those healing spells on me. You're a good guy, you know that? You've been a good friend to me, and that really speaks to my soul, whatever that thing's actual name is. Did you know we have those? They just have... fuckin'... names, man, and you can do stuff with them. Crazy."
His eyes were locked on the dome, but he continued to address Chunji as he inquired further. "I think my Personal Barrier's trapped somewhere. Now and again, when the anxiety goes away, what remains is the feeling like there's more. I don't think I was meant for this, but I'll try."
While continuing to stare at the dome, faint wind began to gather around his feet, coating them slowly - or rather, that wasn't it at all. It was most likely that his legs were coated the entire time, in a Personal Barrier so faint and paper-thin as to be near invisible to the naked eye until the moment it flowed and defended. It pulled and pulled, desperately struggling to reach above his waist as he stood there, expression vacant as he observed the battlefield in front of him.
As the battle inside raged on, the faintest sounds could be heard from further out in the forest - the cracking of dry branches, the clanking of armor, and the nondescript chirps of various voices speaking what sounded like gibberish. The woods would be too dense to see for most, but were Chunji to look around, he would see what looked like various humans dressed in laborers' clothes wielding pitchforks and pickaxes. They shambled like the dead, though they appeared alive. Further behind them were what looked to be guardsmen, dressed in minimal armor and wielding various spears, pikes or swords. They were around the entire perimeter, all shuffling their feet towards the area that the class found themselves in.
Rio tapped his feet with his phantom summoned next to him, keeping an eye out for the origins of the sounds, but with his primary attention on the dome. He'd tap in mentally to chime in, saying, "A distraction? Regardless, I'm gonna keep my focus on this dome shit. But I ain't seeing anyone emergin'."
Chloe, on the other hand, was very much focused on the perimeter, her hands in front of her as if to dust the first thing to leap out at her from behind bushes. "I don't think we should be ignoring that," she'd stutter out within the mental link.
More trees would begin to uproot themselves and fall, once again aiming to crush the students under their weight - more repeatedly now, and with far more ease in their descent. The area also began to feel hot, as if ready to burst aflame at a moment's notice. All the while, those footsteps and voices grew ever closer with each passing second.
@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark
ASCENDIA, ROOM 103 FOUNTAIN, INSIDE THE DOME
As the barrage rained down on Alto, it could be said to appear almost one-sided. He was grabbed and yanked by tendrils once Iraleth had broken free, slashed and stabbed, and yet through it all, his defenses held strong, the strikes never seeming to quite break through. The average PB would have long since shattered, between Hildegunde's drilling bullet and the relentless assaults of the warriors of light and darkness. Whether it was the overcharge's immense battery, a large reserve of essence from the instructor, or perhaps a combination of those factors and others, not one strike among the many broke through. "The righteous indignation of a paladin, and the hunger of an Umbralist... though, that's not quite been confirmed yet, has it? Even so, it's apparent that you fight with a temper, with voracity - and in that respect, you would have many things in common with that death cult regardless."
The good instructor's expression was cold, his words biting, his demeanor one of an owner scolding his pet. While he held respect for Iraleth's approach and mannerisms, it was apparent that the polar opposite could be felt from Alto's attitude towards Ciara. In Ciara's head, as she grasped tighter to the instructor with her tendrils, the distant sounds of screams and flames could be heard in her ear. Alto's attention was split between her and Iraleth, but something had taken specific attention to Ciara upon the instructor's words reaching their end. What could only be described as the guttural howls of the damned in the pits of the ninth hell, rang out in the shadow caster's ears and in her mind, fighting against her own inner voices in volume. They wailed for the deliverance of an end, and screamed for redemption for their betrayal. As this happened, more thorny tendrils would lash out at Ciara and Iraleth from nearby walls, sturdier in construction than before, aiming for specific joints like the backs of the knees, ankles or elbows.
"I'll get to you in a moment, Ms. Kyrios," Alto would mutter, a small smile once more creeping onto his face as he stepped towards Ciara. He moved with the speed of a trained assassin despite the bindings of the tendrils, and pried his sword arm free from their grasp as he stepped. In a single instant, his sword slashed towards Ciara's midsection, dueling her one-handed while weighed down and shifted by her bindings. He would continue slashing and stabbing away at her like this, parrying and deflecting attacks coming his own way. Despite the crushing darkness, it appeared as if he could see and strike without issue. His eyes were catlike inside the shadows, as if he were a hunter of prey in a dark forest. "I have a remnant to attend to. Or, gods willing, you're welcome to join in from over there!"
The dome around them, notably, would begin to make cracking sounds - and upon looking, one would indeed see that the inner walls of vines and thorns were slowly crumbling. A pressure filled the dome, as if rising heat from an oven of gargantuan size. More thorny tendrils and spears would descend upon the two students inside, growing denser and sharper with each new batch. Yet as this happened, the heat increased, and the cracks began to show more, even on the outside.