HP: 35/50 Action: Gets lonely and homesick, summons his fort around himself Lysithea and Procyon. The magic mitigates the damage from this round
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Sailor Scout Attack: Cat's Dream Fortress! Description: Wallia calls out his attack and slams his hand on the ground. An illusionary fortress (which looks like it's made of cardboard boxes) forms around him and anyone within ten feet. It gives cover from sides, blocking the sight almost completely. The walls are as tall as he. The fortress stays there for 20 seconds before it crumbles and disappears. The fortress will block completely against physical and magical attacks from first stage characters but repeated hits from second stage characters will destroy it prematurely. A third stage character can destroy it with a single hit but it will take the damage instead of the group inside. He can use this attack three times in per battle. (Sidenote: Despite it's name it has no special effect on mauvians. (Unless the player wants, of course.)) Lasts for: 20 seconds Number of uses: 3
HP: 40/75 - 11 = 29/75 Damage to Big Chrysocyon: 7
The creature's copies of itself seemed to disintegrate under the onslaught of everyone who chose to attack them. Irkalla felt winded after taking out two of the beasts. Even as it let out another of its odd roar-barks did the Squire of Cosmos feel as if she'd been physically punched in the gut ... dropping to one knee before straightening back up. The continuous hits she had taken were starting to add up.
A moment later a wave of loneliness washed through Irkalla and she inhaled sharply before trying to ground herself in the here and now. Her gaze fell on the larger Chrysocyon once more before she found another decent sized rock and lobbed it at the creature. The sound of impact had the brunette gagging for a second before she began to move away from the giant beast. The loneliness would not disappear.
Lisse’s hand on his shoulder had been comforting, but relief was so short lived on this dark, troubled world. It wasn’t Fang’s fault, he knew they were here to try and fix things, but that didn’t make it any less unbearable and suffocating.
If it wasn’t hunger, it was loneliness.
Lisse and Reims were right next to him but they felt so far away.
Dering felt so small.
Why were they even here with him? They could accomplish so much more together. Lisse and Reims would probably be good friends. He could imagine them teasing each other, maybe pushing each other’s buttons for fun. They both had a lot of energy. They both wanted to protect people.
Why did they need him? Why did any of them need him?
Dering didn’t move. He stared at the giant chrysocyon.
He didn’t even know how to use his magic. He couldn’t fight. He couldn’t heal.
He felt the dead weight of the lute in his hands. Maybe there was a reason it was so heavy.
Maybe it wasn’t supposed to belong to him.
Everyone felt so far out of reach. He’d always been a wallflower. If he wasn’t here, they could probably do so much more. Both Lisse and Reims had to take time to make sure he was okay and he wasn’t. Lisse was wasting food on him. It was an obligation, wasn’t it? He couldn’t really do it so altruistically. He was just a good person with a big heart.
But it wasn’t for Dering. Lisse would have done it for anyone, wouldn’t he?
All of his goodwill was wasted on Dering.
Reims said something, too. Dering saw the way he looked into his eyes, the way he made sure Dering saw him. He heard him, too.
But did it even matter if it was magic? It didn’t change anything that had happened before, it was just a reminder that he couldn’t escape from it. Dering had tried so hard to make sure they knew that he could do this and he couldn’t.
Reims must have known. He had to take his shoulders and make sure he had his attention. Dering hadn’t fallen but that wasn’t saying much. He was too stiff, frozen in place and trapped by his own emotions.
Dering was just going to disappoint him, too. Reims said ‘We’re going to stop it’ but he couldn’t have met Dering. He thought he nodded, maybe, but he didn’t move. He just stared blankly at Reims. What was his sword doing? He was so brave. What could Dering ever do for him? He couldn’t compete. He couldn’t even hold his own weight.
In the flicker of a thought, Dering wanted to go home, but he didn’t really have one of those, either. And certainly no one that wanted him there. His parents were gone. Away, together, probably, but certainly not with him. They didn’t want him. Had they ever? No.
They’d made that clear, hadn’t they? No.
In every way they could, they’d tried to chase him off. No.
If they wanted him, they could have come back to get him. They could have taken him out of his horrible school, back from his uncaring foster family. The could have gotten him. No.
But if his own parents didn’t want him, why would anyone else? They pitied him. There wasn’t anything good to see in him, he knew that. He wasn't smart, he wasn't handsome, he wasn't strong, or clever, or talented, or skilled. He was dead weight. They had to see it, didn't they? Did he have anything in common with any of them? He didn't play sports, he didn't do arts or crafts, he didn't even play music. And yet, Lysithea had given him an instrument. Was his Wonder mocking him? Was it rejecting him? Giving him something it knew he couldn't handle?
He clutched it tighter again, with such force that he thought he could hear the wood creak beneath his touch.
He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve any of this. Everyone was better off without him. Truly!
Dering was better off in his own little corner, where he couldn't bother anyone else. Where he couldn't mess things up. Where he couldn't disappoint anyone.
Being alone hurt. He felt small, but being alone was safer. For him, and everyone.
There was no solace in loneliness, but at least he wouldn't bring anyone else down with him.
Lisse, Squire of Lysithea HP: 49 Damage: 10 + (2 + 1) = 13 Action: Attacking main zombie boss with the last of his magic pool, comforting Dering as best he can.
Dering’s boyfriend really knew how to take care of him. Lisse felt a wave of loneliness threaten to overwhelm him, but he shoved it aside. Dering was more important, and he put his hand back on the other Squire’s shoulder once again, following the lead of the other Squire…maybe some physical grounding would do good right now. He squeezed the shoulder gently. “He’s right, you know. It’s just magic. It’s not real.”
His voice was quiet, and he was speaking right into Dering’s ear. “We’re going to get through this, Dering. You’re not alone. And we don’t ever want you to feel that way.”
It was only the truth, and as Lisse raised his whip once more, spinning it and sending another attack towards the creature, he squeezed Dering’s shoulder once again. “It feels really bad right now, but…it’s not real. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not real, Dering, I promise. I’m here. Right here. Your boyfriend is here too, he’s working so hard to keep you safe. We…we care about you. So much.”
He swallowed, squeezing the shoulder once more. “I’ll keep saying it until this awful magic passes. And I’ll keep doing whatever I can to prove it when we’re out of here and safe.” It was a promise that he fully intended to keep.
Transcended Princess Ida HP: 80 - 11 = 69 (nice) Action: Stunned by the wave of loneliness, before forcing herself into attacking again.
Damage: 14 + 10 = 24
They were doing it... by ones, twos and threes, they smaller monsters were falling under the attacks of those around Ida, freeing up others to turn their attacks back on the mother. Ida felt her confidence rise, tinged with pride. Ganymede had a broken shoe in one hand and a determined expression, Cybele was attacking the mother with her bow... Illyria was a firm presence at her side, doing her best to give as good as Ida herself was, proving she was as effective in battle as any senshi. Others were healing... Lysithea, Encke, someone that made amulets appear around the necks of those around her. Murikabushi was sticking close to Elsa, and though both had taken bad damage, they were still standing, still fighting. Selinur with his ice magic and Fang, leading the charge for all of them.
Right up until the mother roared again and she saw Fang fall to his knees, before a sudden wave of loneliness slammed into her, driving Ida back a step.
Alone... she'd always been alone. Even surrounded by other people, even as social as she tried to be, there was always that small distance... that separation. Responsibility kept her apart... She couldn't stay after school for clubs or hang with friends when she had to be home to make dinner and help her father run the shop. She'd had be the one to take care of not only herself, but her little brother too because her Da just... couldn't, not by himself. She'd always had to be the responsible one, the reliable one, the one who did things because if she didn't, no one else would... And no one had really wondered about it, fooled by her competence and lack of complaining. Never truly part of anything, the voice inside of her murmured.
Alone... when she was awakened as a senshi, a cat there and gone again. She'd had to figure it all out on her own, until she'd met Chaonis, Tsui, Athene... but that hadn't lasted. She'd thought she'd found people who truly saw her, until they were gone. So many people she had helped, had made connections with after... but always from the outside. Never truly welcomed, the voice said again.
Ida felt as if she was frozen in place, her breathing shallow and quick...
Alois, the first person to see her... there, and gone again in a slash of tar-covered talons. Athene... getting an apartment with her, making a home with her... gone, more often than he was home, taking care of things that mattered more than she ever would. Titan... never truly hers in his black and his chaos.
Hver... so bright and so kind, a glowing star she'd reached for, but never felt like she truly touched. Was never truly enough for that far off light. Then gone, because her mission was more important than Ida was.
Never the most important, always second or third best... if at all... the voice wailed. Even Illyria, her bonded... soon enough, even she would be gone. She'd find someone else, someone better... Just like Kieran would. And they'd leave her alone...
The gulf between herself and others had only grown, day by day, step by step. Duty kept her set apart, and then her growing power had marked her as something other. Never truly belonging... everyone she cared about leaving her...
The loneliness was crushing, but when had it not been? There never would be anyone who could truly stand beside her... who would stay with her, or count her first in their heart... There would always be something that set her apart, or took her connections away from her.
Ida felt the trickle of tears down her face and shook herself out of her thoughts, laboring under the weight of that loneliness. But when had she ever let that weight stop her? Her duty did not disappear just because she ached with her isolation. She would shoulder it, like she always had... and keep going.
"Heavenly Orchid Arrows." She murmured, her voice catching as she swept her arm up, calling up her bow for the second time. Her hand was steady as she aimed and let fly, sending her arrow roaring towards the Mother monster.
Eternal Sailor Attack: Heavenly Orchid Arrows!
[What it does] An out-flung hand casts a trail of petals that form a bow-like shape. She takes it up and uses it to fire arrows of light with hardened petals as arrow heads. The arrows have an 'aura' of power to them and explode on contact. The explosion is more concussive, causing a pressure that can push a target backwards a foot or two, but doesn't do much in the way of actual damage. Unbalanced enemies could be knocked over, if they were caught unaware. Particularly heavy opponents may not be moved by the attack, but could be distracted or slowed by the pressure of it. Each arrow takes a lot of power to cast and her limit is three, which exhausts her and can force her to retire until she's rested.
tefla rolled 1 10-sided dice:
4Total: 4 (1-10)
Posted: Sat May 11, 2024 11:56 pm
Illyria - attacking Giant Chrysocyon with physical damage
HP: 49/75 (Sailor Mauvian attack magic use 1/2) Damage to Giant Chrysocyon = 4dmg (( direct damage ))
Michel, Knight of Saturn HP: 44/100 Action: Attacking with magic+swinging his clockhand weapon, staying near Ilse/Fang Damage: (Indirect Damage ; 10 + 3d4) =17
Loneliness was a strange sensation, not because Michel was oblivious to it but instead because he was just used to it. He had people around him who cared (but why, really) but he’d carved a little isolated bubble for himself a long time ago.
It had started a long time ago. Maybe back in middle school.
Hide the parts of himself that he didn’t like, lash out at others. Make his problems their problems just to keep them at bay. He couldn’t have said why he did it, maybe he was just broken.
In the Negaverse, he’d thrived. For a while. Until he broke Evan. That was a different sort of loneliness. He’d had Cambria back then, so even when he’d lost Evan he’d still had a team. Sort of. He’d had to keep the fact that he was in the Negaverse from her. More secrets, more loneliness.
They’d saved Evan, but at the cost of absolute pain. He hadn’t known what to expect when they purified Evan, but he’d bonded to him while he’d been youmafied. That sent him spiraling. Malcolm got the s**t end of the stick. Michel could see him now, across the field. He hadn’t known his little brother was Adria, he’d just known that Adria had been there–been part of the Court, been part of the pain. He’d nearly murdered him. Cambria had saved him, too.
Michel hadn’t been able to run anymore, he’d come clean to her. Maybe he’d never been his true self in front of anyone. Cambria probably got closest.
But she was gone now, too. He was going to propose, and if he’d been more self centered he might have thought it was the universe’s way of punishing him for all the times he’d ******** up. It was probably the opposite, the universe was probably just trying to save Cambria. Not that he was going to give Faustite any credit. She was too good for the Negaverse.
Michel had isolated himself again. He drew away from everyone once more, because that was safest. Because he knew what he was doing was going to cause problems for someone, so it might as well have been for him. Just as long as the Negaverse got more problems out of it.
He couldn’t even remember all of their faces. He’d gone after every single one of them. He didn’t regret it. He’d have done it again. It was lonely then, but he was used to it. In some ways, maybe it was a relief. Maybe it was just the easiest way to punish himself.
Michel had regrets. A lot of them, really. But he kept them buried deep. How was he supposed to open up to anyone, anyway? He’d never been good with emotions. Why start now?
The woman that used to be Cambria was safe, but she wasn’t her anymore.
But then, he wasn’t him anymore, either.
Talia was new. She was a shade of Cambria. She had things in common with her, but she was different.
It was selfish to grieve for Cambria when he had Talia. But she had none of her memories. When she heard stories of Cambria, she heard stories of another person entirely. He didn’t think Talia thought of herself as Cambria, and why should she? For all she knew, every part of Cambria was fake. A pretty, perfect lie.
Michel carried the hole in his heart that made her real. Replacing her felt wrong, but neither could he grieve. Who could he talk to about her? Not Evan, not Malcolm. They were too emotional. They had seen the worst of him. They wouldn’t understand. He didn’t deserve their sympathy, anyway. It should be spent on better people, anyway. Who then, Talia? Why should she be made to carry even more of a burden? She had lost herself, twice. Once as Cambria and once as Anastasia. Talia was a new person. She’d had to start over, learn who she was–who she wanted to be–from scratch. He’d at least kept his memories when he left the Negaverse. Most of them, anyway. The ones worth remembering.
Michel didn’t know what Fang saw in him. Too much good. But Fang was too trusting. He liked him despite everything. Michel should have known he had bad taste in friends even before he met Murikabushi. Ilse was all right, though. Maybe the best of them. She was there with him now, wasn’t she? Yeah, they were still together.
He couldn’t see much as he swung his clockhand like a greatsword. It didn’t feel heavy in his hands, but he didn’t feel much right now.
The loneliness should have hurt more. He wasn’t sure why its presence was so strong right now. Maybe magic. He wasn’t immune to it, but he functioned well through it. He had a lifetime of experience. What was a rotting, drooling dog going to make him feel that he hadn’t felt before?
He spotted Lysithea not so far away; she was helping others. She always was. Cambria, Anastasia, Talia. All of them were helpers. She carried that in every incarnation. Malus–oh, he looked rough right now. Adria, too. Michel didn’t doubt that he was responsible, at least in some way, for whatever haze of trauma they were revisiting. Magic, then. Just like the hunger that was long faded already.
It didn’t matter how real or imposed it was.
Fang was suffering. Horribly, obviously. The wail had been enough to pierce through Michel’s thoughts. He felt it in his teeth, in his gut, in his eyes. He felt that more than he felt the loneliness in his heart. He could run from his own feelings. He couldn’t run from Fang’s.
It didn’t matter if he’d ever seen this rotting, putrid corpse as family. It didn’t matter if it was the last of its kind. It wasn’t what Fang remembered. It wasn’t what Fang needed. It was a cruel reminder of everything he lost.
So Michel wanted it to suffer like it had made Fang suffer. Worse though, because Fang had done nothing to deserve this anguish.
Michel wanted it to die so Fang had a chance to grieve. To heal. To move forward.
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Targets caught in the magic are trapped in an illusion where they are forced to watch the world around them wither and die; in the illusion, any biological creature rapidly age until it dies, at which point it will appear to crumble and decay. Inorganic objects, such as buildings, will appear to dilapidate as the magic progresses. The magic appears in the target’s head rather than the environment; if someone leaves the radius the magic stops and if someone enters the radius they will be affected. This can cause a sense of fear or anxiety; the illusions may cause an extreme disconnect and be mentally jarring. The illusion may also make the target physically feel as though they are dying. The magic can be channeled for 45 seconds and there are no lingering effects unless the player wishes to have residual flashes or hallucinations of death and decay throughout the rest of the battle.
Amarynthos, Knight of the Moon HP: 89/100 Damage: (Direct Damage ; 10 + 3d6) = 23 Action: Thinking about his friends/calling out, holding Ephesus, letting his bear summon attack the chrysocyon
Amarynthos had never really felt true loneliness. It was a strange, unwanted, unpleasant feeling that he didn’t really know how to face. Mary was very well loved. Both of his parents made sure he had the best life possible. They took care of him, they made sure he thrived. And Michael! Sessrumnir! He supported him, too! And he had a ton of friends!
Who were all working really hard right now and doing their own thing, and–
Maybe he’d gotten a little carried away. Maybe he’d lost track of who was doing what, and where.
He believed in all of them, but he’d been so focused on his own emotions, on this that he’d tuned out a little bit. He felt the pang of loneliness as he felt the distance between them. Yvoire was holding his own but he looked faint and sick. Cynthus was going full force at the chrysocyon, in what he had come to expect from her energetic enthusiasm. Rose didn’t have magic yet, but she was still attacking–and maybe she’d made a new friend, too? Things were moving too quickly for him to see everything and everyone.
Dering was with Reims and he looked completely out of it, but thankfully his friend Lisse seemed to have his back–and Reims.
Thank you, Reims.
Amarynthos had been somewhat dazed as he process the emotions, but it was hard to feel lonely when he really hadn’t for any part of his life. This whole battle felt miserable, but–
Oh, Ephesus.
Mary felt Ephesus’ pain more than he felt his own. Mary didn’t let him go. He couldn’t.
Even if he hadn’t been overwhelmed by the wave of loneliness, he wouldn’t have wanted either of them to be alone–and if they were connected, like this, how could they be?
It was safer to send out their summons anyway, right?
Alongside Ephesus’ tiger, he sent out his bear.
“You’re doing good, Effie. We’ll be home soon,” he said softly, and then he turned his head away just enough so that when he shouted back he wouldn’t be yelling right into his ears.
“Good call, Reims! You’re doing a great job! You all are!” Would it have been tacky to say he was proud of them? He was. He didn’t care. He called that out, too. His parents had never been shy with praise, so it didn’t feel odd for him to say it, too.
Especially because he meant it.
Fighting overwhelming Chaos on a battered world? Handling an army of little wolves? Struggling under–overcoming–an emotional wave of who-knew-what torments?
They couldn’t give up. Even if everyone couldn’t fight, they weren’t in this alone. They were all a team here, and Amarynthos knew he was lucky. Other people didn’t have such easy lives. If they needed more help, that was okay. He wanted to help. If they couldn’t fight, he’d fight twice as hard.
Or, for right now at least, his summon would.
The great white grizzly bear charged towards the chrysocyon and raised itself on its hind legs to thrash at the giant. Despite its size, it snarled but it didn’t roar, and despite its haste it was mindful not to pummel into anyone else on its way to fight.
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Summon A white grizzly bear with pastel tinted fur tips that sometimes glitter with moonlight. Its claws look like moonstone. When summoned, it will lash out with teeth and claws. It will pummel targets with brute force and can roar loudly. Players can choose to avoid damage or take temporary or lasting damage at their discretion; the bear’s primary goal is to intercept and intimidate enemies and it will lash out forcefully to do so.
Botein, Super Senshi of Amulets HP: 39 / 75 First Stage Magic Used: 0/3 Second Stage Magic Used: 1/2 Dice Results: 10 Action: Throwing stones still.... just having better aim then expected
It had to be soon right? They had to be close to putting this creature down, correct? Botein continued to throw her stones as hard as she could even as she watched others attack the large monster. They were all working together to take down this danger. None of them were alone in this. Even if she didn't know a single person here she wasn't alone.
She just really hoped the fighting would end soon though. Her arm was starting to ache.
Malus, Eternal Senshi of Glass HP: 74/100 Damage: (Direct Damage ; 10 + 3d6) = 17 Action: Alone, very lonely; casting his eternal magic at the chrysocyon
???
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Large, colorful glass spikes begin to rapidly pop up in a ten foot radius around Sailor Malus. The glass spikes grow at all angles and can grow up to eight feet tall and vary in thickness. The landscape becomes extremely dangerous to travel through as sharp, exposed edges. Thin glass can be easily broken but spikes will continue to grow over any area it can for the 45 second duration of the magic. This magic moves with Malus; the glass spikes will only grow in areas he is actively in, but will remain for the duration of the magic. These spikes are meant to hinder movement but can cause damage; a character may become sliced or skewered by the spikes and can either feel the sensation of pain (but suffer no actual damage) until the magic ends, however all damage is at the player's discretion. A player may also choose to take lasting damage, but this is entirely up to them. This magic can be used once.
Ellicott, Super Senshi of Dances HP: 39 /75 First Stage Magic Used: 1/3 Second Stage Magic Used: 1/2 Dice Results: 8 Action: Throwing stones still ^_^'
The senshi grabbed more stones and just... yeeted... them at the creature. "Die already," She growled. Ready to see that thing collapse. Who knew that she had a fear of zombies.
Valhalla, Transcended Knight of Jupiter HP: (55 - 11) 44 Damage: (Direct Damage 10 + 3d6) 18 Action: Calling his summon to attack again. Gathering up Yvoire into his arms.
Something was happening, and Valhalla knew it was magic again. People were appearing to be frozen or in a daze. Some were still fighting. Some looked like they were in their own world.
Valhalla had never truly been lonely. Sometimes he wished he was with his family or friends, but when he was on the road for games, he had his team. He had his phone and everyone was just a call away. He had a good life, and he knew that he was privileged in that sense. He didn’t get to experience the heartache of abandonment, by choice or circumstance. He didn’t have the experience of being unwanted, or having his confidence so shaken that he couldn’t process what to do. There had been times where he knew he was immature and didn’t know what to do with his life, but he wasn’t alone.
Others were, and he didn’t want to diminish this horrible, gut wrenching feeling he had. He could see the young Squire of Ganymede that Paris had talked to him about, and the one who had just helped Ganymede get away from the smaller ones.
Ganymede looked like she was suffering, too. But she didn’t look like she was being crushed. As always, Ganymede had a resilience to her that he’d always admired. It was the same resilience he saw in their children, especially the older two.
“Kyrie!” he called up into the sky, directing the eagle to strike the chrysocyon, although she was more meticulous with her dive this time, making sure to use talons instead of lightning, lest she injure one of the many Senshi or Knights attacking it.
While she did that, he quickly stepped closer to Yvoire.
“Hi, I’m Valhalla. Ganymede is my wife. I’m going to pick you up, okay?” he said to Yvoire, although he didn’t know if he heard him or not. It didn’t matter. With one arm, Valhalla reached down to scoop Yvoire up, letting him hold onto his shoulder if he wanted. The Squire was young and barely weighed anything, so Valhalla had no difficulty in carrying him and holding his staff in his other hand.
He returned to Ganymede’s side, although made sure to stay out of her way. He would check her over later for any injuries she’d sustained, but so far it seemed like she was doing well enough. At least physically.
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Summons Ability: Able to conduct electric current, on her master’s order she is capable of releasing bolts of lightning (a magical form and not real, potentially fatal kind) from just flying overhead, close by, or making physical contact, leaving her victims with mild to moderate electric burns, seeing stars, and their hair probably on end.
Hp: 75 - 15 - 11 = 49 Action: Direct Damage to the main boss Damage: (Rolling) 2d6 + 10 = 17
Vela was out of super senshi attack magic, so she figured kicking the zombie creature was the best bet, since she would be giving up power if she switched to basic attacks? So she ran forward and just kicked the thing. She knew what loneliness was she had felt it even though she hadn't understood what the feeling was while she was cut off from her world. While she was in the negaverse and didn't feel like she belonged. It was the white moon faction that made her feel like she wasn't alone anymore she could handle this.
Whatever Grieve said, Róka wasn't going to be paying their full attention to; there was something in their chest they barely recognized as a feeling but might've been closest to fury. Did some beast really think it could hurt them half as badly as it'd hurt Fang, who'd fallen to his knees and was sobbing as if he'd die if he didn't? Bold. Almost amusing. Loneliness was easy, it made sense, it was safe -- it didn't hurt. It didn't hurt. It didn't. If they kept telling themself that it was in effect enough to be true, and there was none of that --
Someone's going to come for me. They have to. Someone has to notice. I don't know how much longer I can bear this before it kills me or I break. Please help me. Please. Anybody. Somebody.
Well, nobody'd come in the end, so it didn't really matter, now did it. Alexis had survived on their own through that, and they might've well have been alone at the end of their world for as much good as the other survivors had done them.
The joke was on this thing, really. It didn't know they'd made themself into something that couldn't be hurt by that anymore. All those memories had lost any vicious sharpness; it was matter-of-fact, it was easy, it was just so easy to fall to pieces and remake yourself -- they might have died back then but who cared about that? Can't be lonely if you're dead. Even so, even still, there was some hole in their heart they'd never managed to pave over or hide, and it brought back the memories of hands in theirs. Faces they could no longer remember so well. Something that brought that ember in their chest into a fall of lava, up and down their spine, and it wasn't a feeling because they had made very sure they didn't have those anymore, but it was --
Whatever they'd made themself into was hollow. Róka knew that. It didn't matter, most of the time, but sometimes there was the knowledge that the person they were before all of this would've cared so desperately it would've torn them apart. They knew the outline of the wound, even if there was no wound. So:
This couldn't hurt them anymore. They wouldn't let it.
"Drown already," Róka snarled, pulling their magic to hand and zipping towards the Chrysocoyon faster than blinking; the thing looked to be on its last legs and they'd be damned if they watched it die without being in reach themself.
[For personal reference: 2/3 casts of basic remaining, 0/2 casts of super remaining.]
Róka's Undertow Róka's lower arms and legs are covered in veils of water that manifest out of thin air. Anyone who touches the water generated by this attack will temporarily experience the feeling of being trapped in a rip current and dragged under; this may include feeling as if they're tumbling head over heels, being dragged down and away, being unable to breathe, drowning, etc. Although this only lasts for a few seconds, for the rest of the magic's duration they will feel as if they're underwater & experience difficulty moving accordingly. This magic is primarily an agility boost -- the primary debilitating effect only lasts as long as an enemy makes contact with Róka, although at player discretion they may be affected for longer. While this magic is active, Róka's agility and speed are increased drastically, including acceleration.
There was a certain comfort in having so many allies nearby, a comfort in seeing the enemy weaken. Even if Antisana considered only one of the people around him to be a friend, they were all fighting for the same thing here, and he was... reasonably certain most of those present wouldn't make a sacrifice of someone else to save their own skin. So it was easier then to focus on the fight, and not concern himself with what everyone else was doing.
The creature let out another bark, something that needled in his ears and vibrated his bones, and came with a certain inexplicable, murky sensation. Something deep, dark, thrumming in his core. A despair that felt not his own.
Antisana had never fooled himself into thinking he was friendly. He was not deluded into believing that there were a great many people who would choose his company over nearly anyone else. He was not fun, he was not kind, he was not interesting to nearly any degree. ...And he did not go out of his way to form connections with people- perhaps even less so since he had awakened into Antisana and the youma hunted, hunted, hunted him- he didn't want to drag anyone down with him...
He had Eleonora; she was even nearby.
...He did not want her to get hurt. Not because of him.
It would always sting to be set apart, pulled by a current that moved farther and farther away, into deeper and darker places... At his lowest, he had reconciled with a solution that would solve every terrible thing in his life. ...And he hadn't gone through with it then. Solitude had always been his companion. It was not so different now. He raised his staff, calling the last of his magic to try and induce any affliction upon the beast that haunted them.
Undine grew ever more doubtful that this was actually something he should be out doing- Like, yes, he had this weird planet magic, and it was all very pretty and very stunning, but he didn't actually know what he was doing here, and he certainly wasn't helping, and all it was doing for him was making him want to throw up! That thing was a hideous disgusting monster, and whatever significance it had to this world's Senshi was absolutely completely lost on him- Like- Ugh?!
And Undine was shaking by this point, feeling miserable and attacked by the monster's magic, and it didn't even need to touch him to ******** with him, which was a whole other super uncomfortable thing-
It didn't help that he didn't know anyone here, and he barely understood what was going on- He was just too fresh about this Page thing. He needed help- he needed help, and he didn't know where to get it or who to ask, and all these people were dealing with their own traumas, and he just felt pathetic and miserable and alone- he didn't have any magic or any weapon or any fighting skill-
What was he doing here?
Literally everyone seemed so separate, so much more capable. He'd been blessed with a social civilian life, with a sister who loved him, a small clique of friends who supported him, and then a great ring of fillers to mash into all the empty spaces of his social needs. But here- here, he felt like no one and nothing, and lost and confused, and he just wanted to go home now- Undine didn't know how to fight, not really...
Going home just meant... getting away from this creature. He had to muddle through and get by this monster, and then...
Undine wasn't sure what came then. He just had to press forward with whatever debris he could pick up as a weapon, regardless.
