Welcome to Gaia! ::

Jeremy was pracitcally hyperventilating.

It was that test all over again. The things that wouldn't die. The things that kept coming at them even if you shot or beat them. The thing had a <******** knife through it's head and it was still moving. It was still moving. The whole 'Fight the Evils!' task suddenly seemed very, very pointless. The things in the training had been a test, this...this was real. How could they fight something that could take a knife to the brain and still move?!

"DON'T--" Jeremy squawked out when the hunchback took the golem's wrist, only to...put a fish egg in it? Again, not to sound like a broken record: "<********>" And it was still intent on giving over the fish?! Apparently every attempt to keep the lingo in check was out the window in light of recent circumstances; deep down he hoped he'd been talking too fast for it to be caught by the natives. Even Elsie was stunned to silence, thankgod!

...Oh hey, Quasimodo fell down! Maybe...Maybe it was....No, it was still moving. It should have been dead by now! The Fish egg was clenched tightly in the golem's clawed hand, and the hyperventilating twisted into a remarkably queasy bout of nausea.

"....I'mgoingtobesick." The 'Demoness' groaned low, free claw coming up to cover her mouth. He had survived the island, he'd been okay during training and hell...he could watch the goriest of gory movies! But this? This was too much too soon.

He needed a moment.

And then the fuses reached their end.

BOOM.

An array of colorful fireworks punctuated by a splatter of fish egg entrails erupted from the Golem's hand.

As well as Christof's coat pocket where the Aurora had been tucked for safe keeping.

Suddenly, fishguts everywhere. Again. In tune to a very loud, very close BOOM. Needless to say, Jeremy nearly shat himself...if that were possible in a golem. As it were, it really only flipped a switch in the Hunter's mind, which had him launching off of the couch and onto the knife-impaled Freak.

< Jeremy >

"You son of a b***h!" Jeremy growled, clawed hand curling into a fist.

< JEREMY. >

The fist pulled back.

< JEREMY! >

"WHAT." He yelled out, his voice actually low and squeaky-hoarse naturally now, thanks to everything he'd been through today.

< FIRE. >

.....Operation smash Quasimodo was put on hold for the more pressing issue of flames. Continuing with the movements that were much too fast for any self-respecting Sloth Demon, Jeremy got the hell off of the hunchback, fall back onto the golem's a** and crabwalked back a couple places. He was still wide eyed, he was still covered in fish guts, still breathing frantically in panic and he was so done here.

As soon as he could move again, that is.

In hindsight, West was thankful he had his mouth closed.

Confident that Pickles wasn't the perpetrator (but what in the hell was up with that face painting crap? clowns, sheesh), West turned his attention to the patchwork he had largely ignored until now. He had seen Christof make it through music class with a toe sewn to his hand so a knife to the head didn't seem all that bad, to be honest. West was more interested in the lady sloth demon who appeared to having a full-on case of the crazies.

"Hrm..." he said.

And then everything exploded.

That was it. That was iiit. Screw this booth, screw security, screw fish and their guts. West picked up the previously flipped table, setting it upright just so he could flip it again. With a violent tug, he yanked off his earpiece and threw it in the mess of miscellaneous guts before storming off.

(( sorry i have to go to sleep brb kind of ))

The hunchback wailed, trying to stop, drop, and roll, but apparently having a knife sticking out of your head made this a very difficult process.

Mandy gave Barth a look and trudged in the exact opposite direction, seemingly ignoring him and Christofs plight before she bent, a cooping something off the ground from admits the rubble of their ruined booth.

It was the miraculously intact milk carton from her vegetate game.

Stomping over to the unfortunate boil she ripped open the top and poured the liter over both his arms, reducing him from on fire to simply smoldering.

With that she threw the carton to the ground, walked over to the flipped table and taking a page from Wests book righted it before flipping the thing again.

Statement made she stormed off, muttering something about going back to her dorm to shower and change and being back later.

The hunchback collapsed back against the ground as the blessed cold milk extinguished his flames, exposed sensitive wing twitching from the burns, but ah... no more fire. No more fire. He could dimly make out through his still unfocused and spasmodic eyes the upside down sight of West flipping the table once more and storming off followed by the enraged and flustered Drop-Bear and immediately he sat up.

He had to get back to Mistress Immediately. She had told him to. Commanded, even. He was under obligation.

He had no idea what had happened but he did know that it was not his fault and he was not in any condition nor mood to clean it up, thank you.

Scrambling uneasily to his feet he ran off in a wobbling, uneven line, trailing the stench of burning flesh and old milk and fish guts in his wake.

The explosion startled Kashiyoru upright, ears folded back and eyes-wide. He watched as students scurried about and another, who was stabbed and on fire, was put out.

Kashi looked around for a quick exit, should he need one. As he glanced around he noticed a tall demon, one of the candidates if he recalled, and he seemed... odd.

"Are you alright?" He rose from the couch and patted the demon on the back.