seloria cassul ; dancer (mesmerist) wrote in emillion, |
That mane of white-blonde hair was unmistakable. Mag ran over to the dancer (receiving, on the way, another swipe from the monster that she could not avoid; she was pushed a good distance―in Seloria's direction, at least). "Are you all right?" she asked, once she had drawn level with the girl. Mag and Aspel were used to taking damage, but they would not allow Aspel's sister to end up severely wounded. It was then she felt a blast of ice cold aimed towards her, and she stepped in front of Seloria to take the blast of the Blizzara. Her skin felt dry, frozen by the cold, but Mag wasted no time in turning to the monster to deploy Magic Break. It took a moment to realize just what had gone on, what that flash of nearly pure white hair meant, of what Mag dashing off in front of the beast and earning herself a blow implied. “No.” Her heart sank in her chest. Not here, not now. What had she worked so hard to prevent? A quick - for Aspel - dash positioned her in front of the monster once more. “If you consider this a fight, I assure you shall be wrong!” Another flourish of her sword, and the smith stepped in, leading with her sword arm in an attempt at striking the beast. Maybe if she could cause some damage, it would put more power behind her words, cause the beast to relent, and allow those she loved to gain their footing, to move away from this disaster to get to… Faram. The beast swung, Aspel parried. “You are the only one who shall fall today!” An attempt at provocation may be her best bet after all. Seloria lowered herself as Mag had taken the blow for her. It was not something she wished to go to waste. She nodded as the dragoon asked after her well-being, ready to move again, when she saw the sentinel. “Don’t worry about me,” she tried with a frown. It probably came off harsher than it should have. She appreciated the effort, but she didn’t need to be protected. They needed to fell the beast in front of them. “I’ll weaken it,” she said before turning her foot and she was dancing. It wasn’t the kind of dance she had performed on stage. No, her steps were quicker, bouncier than the slow Ordalian slink of her performances. She didn’t need music to remember the steps, or to weave her magic through them for her intended audience. The Polka was something new that she had learned in the last year of being in Emillion. She’d seen how hard it hit. The ladies were tough. She’d just...make them appear a little tougher. The beast charged, straight for Mag; she held up her weapon to Parry and, though she was pushed back, she could not help noticing the power behind the monster’s attack (while still considerable) seemed to have waned. Still she had to wonder if her footing would hold, or if she would end up with her back to the wall; but then, distracted perhaps by one of Aspel’s taunts, the Adamantitan turned away from her. The momentary respite was used to cast Armor Break on the beast, making it even more vulnerable. For her efforts, she was rewarded with a Fira; she was able to dodge the brunt of it, but still felt the heat of the flames licking the side of her armor. Moments after she glanced down to check the damage, a wave of Watera slammed her against the wall she had avoided colliding with before. The fire, however, was put out. Blinking to clear the momentary dizziness from the impact, she muttered, “Well, aren’t you kind,” and approached, spear in hand, to go on the offensive. This time - of course - Aspel and the monster would take to trading blows, seeing to be trying to match each other on possible damage and swings. With each follow through, another taunt was tossed out, trying to keep the beasts attention on her at all times, as while Mag could deal a great deal of damage, there was no way the other woman could deal enough damage to take the thing down in the time they needed it down in. However, with each passing moment, with each slam of spell or limb against her armor, Aspel became more and more the worse for wear, her steps staggered, but not broken yet, she threw up another taunt. “You have a face not even fixable by magic!” A growl to her voice as she readied against another blow. |