Cyrus the Flailboat (fringeward) wrote in emillion, |
The tide turned against them, imperceptibly but surely. Cyrus could feel it happening even as he called out taunts to keep the beasts focused on him, withstood their many blows, attempted, as he could to offer healing to the others with Mantra, though the pain of the broken arm and a few other injuries besides was starting to make it hard to focus on his more complex skills. He still had Aura Bolt, though, and it seemed effective enough -- he shot off one, then another, then a third until finally, finally, one of the larger beasts fell and did not rise. The woman with the gun, too, seemed able to send the very same pillars of white energy flying, and though he could not imagine how she did it, he was grateful for her presence. Perhaps they would win this after all - it was three on two now… She didn’t see one of them fall, instead focusing on keeping the dance going and mimicking where she could. Except that the blonde that had been in between her and the other monster was gone, and it looked like the fucking thing was going to pounce on her. Her feet stopped and she lifted her gun, firing into it. The trigger clicked, but no shot came out, and she reholstered it and immediately fell into Slow Dance. So long as she had its attention, might as well get some use out of it. “I’m out of bullets,” she called out. Eden pushed herself up. She was too foolish to stay down and still. She stumbled forward, bringing a gloved hand to her face. She’d lost her spear, but her buckler was still attached to her wrist, not having been knocked completely out. It was a miracle the back of her head wasn’t warm with blood. She took in a shaking breath attempting to assess where the enemy was, but her vision still wasn’t as clear as she needed it to be. It was then that the mistant came into view, charging for her to strike. The woman had called that she was out of bullets. Eden knew wasn’t going to be able to move in time. She’d have to take it on close. She brought her hands up before her and prepared herself. Energy focused, she only waited for it to come within range to strike. If she was going to go down, she was going to make sure it hurt for trying. The mistant never reached her, however. The woman with the gun was not the only other person on the field, after all, and Cyrus, though he had finally managed to dispatch the hare, could read that the situation had just soured pretty drastically. Eden was without her spear - the woman behind him was without her bullets - so really, the only weapons left on the field were his, and he refused to let his friend and colleague fall to the beast. Not if he had any say about it - and he did, didn’t he? Cyrus Colle was a big man, tall and muscular and strong and certainly enough of a wall to stop the advance of even such a massive enemy. He was not, however, infallible, nor was he the swiftest on his feet; he had to all but throw himself sideways to intercept the blow, which spelled trouble for him. Not that he thought about it at the time, nor even when his pole snapped as he attempted to lessen the impact of the blow by blocking it. He grappled with the creature as best he could, but his footing was uncertain; even as he attempted to lift it and throw it against a wall to give them all an opportunity to breathe and recover, his foot slipped. With a surprised shout, he lost his balance, which was enough for the creature to pick him up instead. Everything blurred, then - he went flying, and although he attempted as best he could to find which way was up, there wasn’t enough time between release and impact, and his sore, battered body protested the final attempt to recover. He hit stone head-first, which was perhaps a mercy, for after a brief, explosive moment of pain, he felt nothing at all. |