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Post by Lucas Chevalier on Jul 26, 2021 7:58:03 GMT -8
Lucas could feel the wrath of Summer surround the two of them. Wisps of smoke danced around them as the grass caved to the scorching heat that was ignited by Summer's watchful gaze.
He drew in a deep breath as several images flickered through his mind. When he looked at Riley they were as unhinged and as desperate as Fawkes had been when the Sunbanisher tried to get him to agree to the rushed contract. At the rate Riley was going it wouldn't be long until they were as fragmented as the Elemental was as well.
His mantle flared for a moment causing fog to drift from the Fairest and surround those who stayed closed to him. The fog pressed against the wrath surrounding all of them, making room for sorrow as well. The anger from before was gone and his eyes were filled with disappointment instead.
"I'm not your enemy and you're not mine, Riley. But if you don't get it together you're going to end up making an enemy out of the entire Freehold. "
He held their gaze while he spoke so his words wouldn't be drowned out by another scuffle. After he was done speaking he released Riley from his gaze.
"Let's go, yeah? I don't want to keep you from your gathering any longer. "
He stepped over to Eurydice so the two of them could take their leave unless someone attempted to intervene and stop them.
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Post by Krakenbox on Jul 26, 2021 13:08:57 GMT -8
As Lucas finishes his speech, turning around to move with Eurydice, Riley blinks out of their stupor and charges forward. The Hedge Duelist opens her mouth to respond to Oren, before her attention snaps to the shift of movement. Mitchell was still holding her weapon.
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Post by Krakenbox on Jul 28, 2021 11:53:43 GMT -8
The mind played tricks on Lost and mundane alike—a shift is subtle when one is overwhelmed with emotion and the energy corked and pressured. A star of explosive helplessness, demanding to burn and eating them alive like the light of their mien.
The Moth felt a great shame for slapping Lucas, but the prospect the disastrous affair of sliced tires and vicious bickering spilled over the second the Fairest weaved himself back into their life with glamour and Pledges. Chevalier needed constant validation—that's what exhausted them in the first place. The sudden clarity of his Oath snapping under the weight of their Knight's demand for proof that they gave a shit pieced together how tightly he had bound them to him. He never had to seek them out and ask for these ties, he wanted Riley back in his life with the Wyrd backing it. Whether on purpose or not, his own needs to be in contact with them and help had put Riley in this position—Lucas publicly shaming their desperate calls for all to see, under the heat of Wrath and surrounded by its devout followers. Linden was dead, Archie Hartman was despondent with grief and failure and fear in his Spring dream, and here was the Onyx Fairest rubbing their nose in their own detestable failure to care for him when they were so very, very low on compassion.
He locked Riley in a cacophony of sensation, overwhelmed by the vicious beast that flared across the vampire's features and the howls of the damned themselves trumpeted his suffering. And he kept talking, apparently—Riley pliable and at the mercy of his beautiful Crown.
A slap wasn't so insane a prospect when one emerged from that cocktail of toxicity.
Fractals of light and reflection split as Oren takes Summer's rays as a blade, swinging it to point at Riley as he moved between them and Lucas. Mitch responded in sequence, moving with inhuman grace around the trio as he hammered his forearm into Riley's abdomen, lifting the Moth off the ground in a full sweep as he rolled their weight and momentum up and over. They flickered clear from reality in unison as whispering shards dismantled their presence and the Brightone's explosive flash, Eurydice swearing in surprise with the sudden dogpile.
Oren drawing the weapon was enough. She knew the Dancer was doing his job in a manner that he handled dangerous and unstable Torrents, and wasn't looking to poke and prod the Mirrorskin when they were supposed to join their court. Escorting Lucas to whatever distance he was comfortable with and a quiet word to meet up later, she joined Cinder and left for the Brambles.
Riley was almost weightless with the change of their nature, and the symbol of their mounted self-hatred into a tangible target was no longer present or available. The Dancer hissed, gold tears spilling freely from his damaged vision like he had dumped his marble features into a smoking riot. He belted out his explanation as clear and consistent as he can, balancing a grapple as he tried to sooth their shock and keep them from feeling trapped. There was little to no pressure to his strength, but he was relentless in how flexible his movement was as he explained the spell only worked if he was holding them. He couldn't let them go until he knew they weren't going to pose a danger to themselves, but it also awarded some time to reset in private. Riley could easily lean on the tricks of the Wyrd and escape, and he even reminded them of that once they were listening.
Even after all of this, he was desperately trying to help.
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