Nature Magus Rising: Flash-Experimentation

Home again, the scene unfolding in front of her was a peculiar one. Never had she seen the creature/queen in person before, only rumors of her presence stood. Her rieka lines perked, after months of being suppressed, she felt good, and she felt….-ready-. She began to wade through the crowd, shoving and pushing anyone she was able with the little weight that she had.

Curiouser and curiouser, she began to take slower steps, the scene in place was filled with no action, but she could do her best to force it herself. She loved her home so much, grabbing at the swamp water and mud she began to smile inside…….in her heat she could only pray.
-Praise Azrael.-

She turned around, staring at rest of the small crowd, without a word she pointed at elderly man, and two younger boys, throwing swamp mud in their direction and pointing at the ground to antagonize them. A sly smile washed over her face as a small breeze began to blow around her stead.

Praize Azrael it was good to be home.

(Pyhrra)

Madarlon, frowned. The back off his head splattered with mud. "AGH DAMNIT!" He would cry. Striding to his feet. Gripping his staff, the youth, grumbled. Grabbing at nearby mud with his left hand. As mana flowed, spores arising from the ground to attach the the mud in his other palm.

Annoyed, he began attempting to whack the girl, with his walking stick/staff, before tossing his mud covered spore ball at her head annoyed. "Take this!" The young Saffron avis would scowl out, towards Pyhrra. One could see the rage upon his face easily.
(Madarlon Criscal)

The demise of the numerous guards, once to his defense, left him tainted with their crimson essence, stained at the aristocratic's fingertips-- Still drenched of the deed unbeknownst to the Alterosi populace. A stoic expressed was left branded upon Hector's face, and not a single word uttered past his lips. The name was well known amongst the east, leaving him with assumptions that even those of Alteros would come to know of his identity already. With such in mind, he didn't feel the need of his 'welcoming party', prior.

Their fates? Unknown, but easily easily assumed to those whom paid close attention to detail. As one ventured beyond the man-crafted bridge to Alteros, forged of earth, mended by hundreds of Earth magi in wars that superceded one's knowledge, the slap of a frigid substance clinged to his backside, tarnishing the well-kept mantaeu with a deep brown. It left him in an awkward pose, unsuspect to the casting upon his person until now.

A swift gasp was all that was made audible from his person; Such, followed by a pivot, prior to moment's hiatus, leaving a pair of azure hues to glare unto the perpetrator: Pyhrra: An Oscuri Aquamancer, whom in his perception, had no idea whom she was dealing with.

"You have some nerve..." He growled-- Ashen locks of hair waded for the heavens at the volition of a conjured layer of cascading waters, siphoned from the atmosphere within immediate proximity to birth an aquatic aegis to shroud his figure-- The mud that once clutched clothing to the flesh, was flayed away, scattered in the wake of the flaired waters, splattering it for the surroundings.

The blood tainting his fingers was instantly washed away, leaving the little evidence of the act prior, vanquished.
(Hector Vernon)

Madarlo, lightly chuckled. His Mud retaliatory attack being sucessful. Grinning, he would run his mud coated finger's through his hair. "Ah..crap!". He'd state, silently moving over towards the nearby water. Mana calming after his outburst. As he breathed in, quicky dunking his muddy hair, and hands, scrubbing at his scalp fiercly.

Before raising his head, as to shake his hair, not caring how ridiculous he looked. As he simply walked towards the girl, lowering a hand. Intent on helping her rise to his feet. Chuckling, at her predicament. Even knowing that she cold've probably kicked his butt anytime she wanted.
(Madarlon Criscal)

A groan from his person shown evident discontent, having utilized not just his own aquamancy in public, yet again, but even going as far to lash out with advanced artistry is the aquatic art: Blood Manipulation.
It wasn't something he simply preferred to avoid, but in defense of his title, the Oscuri woman forced his hand. Another persona, hit with the same earthen technique seemed to take place beside him in retaliation.

Such, earned his attention, having a persona with many of the same magical capabilities as he, himself. Though, what was most awe inspiring, was a feat fulled off in the heat of battle. The tome pertaining to the Nature Magic, at its core. The art of life...
Though, how was one to breathe life to his defense? A key position betwixt himself and the girl left him with a for flash experimentation. He hadn't an idea, if such was truly a good idea, but it proven successful, he was likely to be on the road to discovery!

A left hand reached into his left side, beneath the mantaeu, legs locked in the midst of their sprint to leave him gliding across a soaked marshy soil. The water he'd flow against ravaged around his boots, effective casting turning his slide into a surface on flooded land; The once-concealed left hand brought vision to a sizable chunk of Crellus Toadstool-- Relatively vile to imagine someone to simply harbinge such material within their inventory, however, it was an act committed by many alchemists-in-training.

Fingers wrapped around the chunk, protected from the toxins via the aqua-imbued glove slipped on-- The generation of one's mana, was transfered into the stool, empowering it with one's own essence. The immediate response to it, was the rapid breakdown of the material, transcending the solid state into a gaseous object, emitting noxious fumes, perceived with a verdant hue. He held his breath, leaning in for Pyhhra whilst she remained distracted by the other aquatic magi, inducing body weight to drop him for the earth-- A proper lead for the fabricated jets of water, launching him for his target at impressive speed.

The gas spawning stood was held off to his left, wielded akin to a weapon of its own nature, heaved forth, thrust into one's chest.
The direct impact forced upon the physically altered toadstool, brought it to succumb under the pressure, transcending into a grassy miasma, consuming any and all into its toxic wake...

Thankfully for Magi and Yokai alike, the intensity of said toxin was far too insignificant to unveil true damage-- Only enough discomfort to leave one weary, fallen to the soils if need be, concluding the match.

"....Well..." He started, turning gaze to his now-emptied left palm. "That is one way, to test a theory..." He commented, backpedaling to allow Madarlon to aid the Oscuri back up to her feet.
"I hope you learned assaulting strangers isn't the most intelligent decision for the common magus... Considering, you'd never know, whom can and can't retaliate..."
(Hector Vernon)