Suryasta pseudo-manifests

The warrior’s expression tightened, but fear was evidentially a foreign concept to her, as she merely adjusted her stride slightly to keep ahead as she ran towards me. I rose as she came near, swords coming to hand once again and she drew back her spear and prepared to smash me into the ground. I knew my efforts wouldn’t be quick enough to keep her from hammering me down, but I wasn’t one to back down either. Before she could hit me though, Suryasta snarled—a strange, inhuman sound, between the roar of a tiger and of a massive fireplace. He reached out invisible to catch Pyrrha’s face with an intangible hand, something that should have done nothing, yet which sent the redhead stumbling suddenly back.

As she moved, I was able to see why. Though he still had no form of his own, he’d formed a glove of sorts, overlapping the same space as his hand. He stepped forward as Pyrrha retreated, more flames rising up his legs, giving him a pseudo-manifestation. As it formed, it didn’t look like him, though—or like a human, needless to say, though I thought I saw some subtle traces of myself in the design he chose. Instead, he chose to make something more impressive for his first real fight, rising into a form well over two meters in height, with four arms and a massive, bulky body as if he were someone wearing armor, though the flames all blended together. Mostly shapeless flames roared where his hair might have been, but some of it rose inconsistently into the shapes of horns, altering between those reminiscent of demons and animals. In each of his four hands, he formed a sword, each blade jutting straight out of a palm.

Barely hesitating, Pyrrha slammed her spear through his head, but with no material form to speak of, he wasn’t the target. Dancing back a step, Pyrrha seemed to realize that, too, and attempted to dance around him and strike at me, Levant’s burning orb getting closer.

In response, Suryasta…opened was the only word I could think of to describe it, lines across his body yawning wide as he opened straight down his body like a bizarre suit of armor waiting to be stepped into. Or maybe a mouth was a better example, as he lines the evidentially hollow interior of his shell with blow-torch like ‘teeth.’ He stepped closer to Pyrrha, trying to draw her in, and even she gave him a wide berth—and a rather ineffective blow to the head, of course.