Constance: Lady Astoria saves Gabriel

[21:47] Burn.

No less than a minute would pass until these lands were ravaged by flames on each side. No less than seconds which had brought about ruin and scorched lands equivalent to the very streets of which he had grown upon. Each movement drawn forwards by the cosmos and each breath wavering for not a moment against that heat which surround both.

His attention?

Focused and honed upon this sole target before him. Even should his flesh be scorched off his bones? Gabriel would continue to pummel this woman from all ends, stardust bursting and the cosmos lit ablaze raining down upon her very existence. Knocked aside by a blast of pure starlight cleaving through the defenses of which she sought to have raised.

"... So much destruction. So much death so you could sate your divine leader. So much loss of life because you believed a commoner not worth a second thought on your mind." The smell of burnt corpses and twisted figures all screaming out in pain still etched within his mind. Fists holding tight around this common staff plucked from that wreckage of what remained.

An audible click of his tongue as Chiase was forced back.

"Our leaders? They are fools no doubt. Councilmen which act not in the best interest of our people, those are whom your blades needed pointed towards. Those are who your weapons should have been rallying to slaughter and paint our streets crimson with." Still did he push forwards, still did his flames continue to grow and threaten Chiase and her strength whole.

"Instead?

I'll assure every slayer which walks from that tower joins the masses they slaughtered."
(Gabriel)
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[21:48] Coraline exclaims, "Get 'em, Gabriel!"
[21:58] Fire, everywhere. It was always how the fox fought. The surrounding area was burned to cinders. As it always was. She tore along the ground suicidally, as she always did.
Yet.. Lacking, this time, some of that signature passion. No laughter escaped the fox in this fight. None, here, at all.
..Is this how her children would feel, when somebody finally killed her? F*ck, it could happen right now. The cycle, perpetuated. Reynaud, turned into a tool of vengeance, and getting himself killed. He hurt himself for her enough while she was alive, what would he do, if she..
If..

The fox tumbles from their parting clash. Skidding along the ground while he lectures her, on morality. Struggling to stand while he promises to kill every slayer that-

…

"Every.." passes her lips in the silence he leaves. Muffled by their shared inferno. "Every..." escapes her again.
Every one.
Every one.
Every single one.

The fox breaks a chuckle. Quiet, and deluded. It raises, soon thereafter, to a hysterical laugh. The core in her chest screams. Her cloak catches aflame. Her wings scour the darkening sky, blackened by the bloom of their battlefield. The fox stares at him, wide eyed, and laughs. Like a lunatic.
She didn't care about every slayer. She didn't care about anybody else. She cared about Reynaud.
Reynaud couldn't protect himself.
Reynaud had to be protected.

And she would kill anybody who dared threaten to touch him.

The fox's visage erupts into flame, drowning out her laughter in their brief reprieve. It isn't for much longer, though.
No. No, no, no no no. No. He would not touch Reynaud. Not speak a single threat to him. He would not look at Reynaud. He would look at the ground.
When she buried him in it.
(Chiase Yomeshi)
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[22:03] Coraline says, "NOOOO."
[22:12] No. No. No.

He would not touch a hair on Reynaud's f*cking head.

Were one to ask for a picture, a scene, of one losing themselves, it would have been here. Now. The fox aflame, body shaking with laughter, tearing across the field. She offered no reprieve. He was sent back from their second bout, tumbling. And she was on top of him just as quick. His flame scorched her blackened armor, cloak trailing embers, body ablaze.
He would not touch him. He would not touch anything. She would rip those f*cking hands off, that he did not touch a thing again.

In the dim light of flickering flame, did the fox burn brighter this day.

Flames rose from the ground, a beam burning through his defenses. And this time, she did not offer the back of her blade. Not for any show. Not to send him flying, and laugh.
He would die.
He would die.
Feet touch the ground, stance spreading from her twirl of blossoming fire. And her sword cuts through him. A firm, downwardstrike. A scar, everlasting. Not deep enough. Never deep enough.

But a reminder of who won. Now. Forever.

Her hand took his face, explosives rippling from her body, and threw him into the ground. Down. And out. And she stands over him, fire spastic, volatile; and laughs. Hysterically. She would protect him. She would protect him. She would protect him. And they would not get in her way again.

Never, again.
(Chiase Yomeshi)
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[22:18] His hand idly rests on the hilt of his blade. As it seems, he wasn't needed for now.

Though he had been prepared, a part of him was glad that he didn't have to battle --it was a clear sign of Chiase's progress even though she often doubted herself.

With Gabriel being slammed down into the ground though, he could only wonder what the others present would do. He'd seen two of them travelling alongside the young Novusian, but that aside he knew next to nothing about their own abilities.

He remained silent for a time, jade hues drifting over those present...
(Shui-leng Zhu)
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[22:20] Burn.

No sooner had this conflict begun did those flames around Gabriel burn only brighter and stronger. Limits shattered and more of that indominable will called upon as the sands of time continued to fall around this young boy. One second of vigor and strength soon turned into a shattering loss brought to its swift conclusion.

He would push.

Push until his existence could stand no more. Push until his movements would ache with each breath, push until those many eyes looking upon Gabriel? Would see only that piercing light which illuminated the late evening skies, much like a beacon of pure strength that refused to yield.

And, yet?

Only so much could be done to overcome that gap in experience and power.

What followed was a sight more horrendous than imagined. The scene unraveled with a blade cleaving inwards upon his chest, with flesh burning beneath that weapon and flames digging inwards upon this young boy. His movements once so crisp and clean suddenly forced to a screeching halt - Leaving little more than embers from what was once a mighty inferno.

Stood down, defeated.

With certain death looming above, surely.
(Gabriel)
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[22:26] Asma watched the fight, curious and quiet as Gabriel stepped up to the plate against Chiase. The girl had full faith in him to do what he needed to do - and yet as he fell to her flames, and she stood over him Asma found herself having an option.

To do nothing at all and allow the fox to do whatever she wished or...

Step in and ensure Gabriel wasn't taken. She wasn't entirely sure how well off it'd go however...

"You should let him go, you know!" Asma spoke up in that moment. "I'm Asma Katinka Ingabogovinanana with the Special Victims Unit of Magnolia. He's under arrest for false confessions in the name of our country. I need to bring him back in to home, you see?"

She stepped forward now, water and sand coiling around her form as she eyed the fox.

"So release him to me."
(Asma)
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[22:27] Across the muffled voice amidst the crowd, there is a growing intensity of heat which had pulled in a manner sights and spectacles unbeknownst to the waking world. A blistering heat to rival that of the radiance of solar power gleams an uneven might.

For by the time footsteps had ceased next to Asma, one fire burns brighter than another.

An audible gasp careens into existence, signifying her presence. Across the sweating brow and pale eyes rises the visage of the fragile and vulnerable youth in Constance.

"Stop, you're killing him!" Her voice rings, a sense of reason against the maddened chuckles of the elevated kitsune.

Fists ball up, for nay a single shred of power gleams free from her. For as defenseless as Gabriel was in this moment, she too was in a familiar boat. Mayhaps so is why she had a much grown empathy for he.

She shivers, once more met with the prospect of death before her.

A hand raises as the first step is taken. As mundane as her form were be, a mysterious sense of action draws her to step forward. Seemingly lanky arms barely laden with power rises. "Please, stop..."

The pathetic magicless one is called to action.
(Constance)
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[22:31] A wandering Dryad happens upon a hunt.

A hunt, of her own people. Or perhaps perpetuated by. That sluggish lumber grows closer and closer, to a scene she had only sideyed prior. Yet it seems to have escalated in her rounds about Esshar.

Not that she's in any sort of time to change this course of events... But still, Emerald eyes watch- beset upon a fallen Gabriel with a look of utter inquiry.

"Perhaps I only heard you in passing."

"This one was a warrior of Novus- A child of the ruined city."

A soft smile, as her gaze wanders upon three girls- two familiar, and the other not.

A gaze shifts towards Asma. And beyond Constances screams, and her own approach forward... Dionaea speaks, shamelessly.

"Do not kill the boy."

"But you are not to relinquish him, Chiase."

"That's an order."

Emerald eyes darken. A pearlescent grin widens, whiterthan the clouds within the sky.

Eager, to see how this would all unfold.
(Dionaea)
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[22:42] Do..
Not..
Kill him?

..She offers no reply. Naught but a silent acceptance, somewhere in her mind. A recognition that.. Not listening to Dionaea would only bring about more issue than this.. Thing beneath her, ever would.
Her fists clench. She spits on him. Or she would, if it had gone more than a few inches from her mouth before being burned to ash.

Fine. She's another to stare down, anyway.

"Asma.. Asma.. Blah, blah, blah.." A dark chuckle, shoulders rocking. She'd lost it alright. She was gone. "What was it, that.. Little wretch, called you? Asma.. Daughter, of Virion?"
She smiles. Sickly.
"Maybe, I'll kill you too."
Constance's cries would have struck the lover in her, the mother in her, but a few moments ago. Now? They fell on deaf ears. If anything, the cries sought to please her. She would take him away from everybody he loved. And she would enjoy every second of it.

The fox sways on her wings aflame, heat rolling across the ground in the arena of fire. Turning, slowly, to face the daughter. Burns lace her body. Her breaths are shaky. This had already taken a toll on her, clearly. But she was nothing, if not confident.
Eyes curve. Her sword draws to the side, embers flickering from her fingertips. A flame burns to life in her palm. Very well.
"..Do.." whispers the fox. "..Try not to disappoint me, mm?"
(Chiase Yomeshi)
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[22:42] Gabriel?

Well, he continues to lay there.

Knocked down in the dirt, nothing but smoldering embers as his companions stand firm.
(Gabriel)
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[22:46] She glanced towards Constance as she screamed for Chiase to stop; and as Dionaea called for him not to be killed - but for her not to relinquish Gabriel at her.

Then, Chiase turned towards her, and as she revealed just who she was - Asma's bow was unslung from her back, yet no magical arrow was nocked.

"I am Asma Katinka Ingabogovinanana Tyranny, daughter of Virion. Princess of the Dreadwoods." She announced, changing her tune the moment she was found out. There was little in the way of fear or resentment in the girl's expression.

Yet the bow now was quietly aimed and pulled back towards Chiase in that moment as she steadied herself.

"You, unfortunately, have hold of my friend there. As big of a dork as he is, I'd rather see him safe and sound than under your disgusting ways. So you'll unhand him to me." Eyes flicked to Dionaea, briefly, before they refocused on Chiase.

"By force, bitch."
(Asma)
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[22:48] Gabriel says, "this fIcking btch"
[22:53] Coraline is mad, now.
(Coraline)
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[23:16] It was never enough to snuff her flame.

Flame thrown, water returned. The earth rose up, and grabbed at her feet. Fire, or her sheer force of will, drove her forward. Though the earth and water battered her shaking, drained form, the core in her chest screamed evermore. Rising above the flame, rising above her laughter. And driving her forward. Engulfing her in flame. Water and sand and earth and mud, all of it thrown her way. The fox charging headlong through crashing waves, just to burn the earth beneath her feet. To throw Asma off balance, for just one moment. Her palm slams into the girl's stomach, and a concentrated beam of plasma burns ever brightly. Had the fox been more together, more concentrated; it might have burned a hole straight through her. But it's wild. uncontrolled, and volatile. Plasma washes over her sides, but not straight through. And the fox stands. For once, she stands.
Her foot wheels around, and strikes the burn directly. Throwing her away. Across the scorched clearing soaked in her tides. The ground, deformed. Mutilated by their fight.

..The ground that she.. Stood on. She.. She stood.

The crowd, screaming. For her to stop. Everybody around her. For once, powerless. The fox, the authority here. The judge. For once. For once.

For once, the fox won. Stood over three. Shaking. Hysterical. Hysterical.

For once, the fox had done something. Protected someone she cared about. If only in passing. If only the vaguest, veiled threat. If only the most fleeting mention, the suggestion, that Reynaud could come to harm. If only the most subtle, unintended threat to her belov'd.

For once, the fox protected him.

"Stay.." escapes the fox, trembling. She could not take another. One blow, and she'd crumble under the weight. "Where you belong." A shaky, pained laughter. She felt like death. Her body ached. Her muscles screamed. Her circuits threatened to pop at any moment from the extreme stress she'd put them under.
But she'd won.

What an amusing turn of events.
(Chiase Yomeshi)
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[23:16] Coraline occupies the perfect slice amongst the timeline of this little snafu that's been going on.

Arriving too late to try and retrieve her dearly beloved Gabriel from the clutches of Chiase, yet arriving in time to witness the maiming of her good friend Assma, she has been able to double up on getting pissed off.

Her foot thumps and stomps with indignance, forefinger drawn with ire upon the ookami ahead.

"Hey!" she squeals.

"You're a sicko, you know that? Running around beating up kids, killing them, kidnapping them? That's really messed up! You're like, you're so messed up in the head! A real twisted, wacko nutjob, a freak, a... a..."

"...an idiot!"

So do the digits of the razuka find purchase upon the hilt of her sword, the blade drawn forth to be pointed as an instrument of death towards Chiase, something met with a charge and a scream.

She beat a boy into unrecognizability for mildly hurting Asma once.

She's going to kill the fox for this.
(Coraline)
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[23:17] The first falls. The taunts grown. Much like children that prey upon the weak, there is an invisible sucker punch within the youth's stomach that almost brings her to hurl (not that that would be the first time this happens).

Perhaps there is some merit to pragmatism. After all, there mayhaps be no reasoning with one so driven to enact death upon another.

It were flabbergasting, astonishing.

Disgusting.

Her shaky hands rises once more, now raised into a pointed index. "Y-You would be so elated by the perversion of someone's death..."

Her voice were shaky, and yet there is a guttural crack from the vocal chords. In a sudden confluence, the presence of the magicless one suddenly shifts. From the muted and nonexistent power levels does it suddenly rise in intensity.

The embers before her heart burns as they cascade and fall upon her dress. Yet they do not singe or catch, moreso they form and create.

From it, her visage changes. The plain sweater that had adorned her place erupts into a beauteous black and crimson. The mundane hair caught upon nothing soon is cradled by a well-woven hat.

All whilst embers form before her right eye, creating a partition of an eyepatch that soon burns bright.

The lady that stood there, by all means, still looked like Constance. And yet, there is an added vibrato to her aura; as if this were a completely different person.

"...is but an excuse for mortals who fear their own demise." Her voice rings. The familiarity remains, yet the delivery had shifted tremendously. "And the rightful place of those that wield such a sorry outlook... shall be embraced by the hands of Hel'heim for their misdeeds."

Her hand extends as a shroud of flames manifest, bringing to life a weapon of wooden stature; undeterred by the flames.

She stood before the kitsune, a hand moving as fingers fall upon her covered eye. The eccentric pose almost looming with an oddity if it were not for the gravitas of the moment.

"For that, I shall judge thee accordingly."

"On behalf of the Phoenix Light Concordance."
(Constance)
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[23:18] Coraline kneels before the arrival of Lady Astoria, conceding this fight to her superior. Yet it does leave something lingering upon her mind...
(Coraline)
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[23:18] Coraline asks, "Wait, where'd Constance go?"
[23:30] For once, the fox stood over a child who had tried to rescue her friend. Water was conjured in an attempt to extinguish the flames which surrounded her, and sand was used to ensnare and trap - and yet it was no use.

Experience, age, power.

All of these things held a major difference when it came to actual fights. She had faced such truth against Vasilli - and now again against Chiase. It bothered her to no end. It infuriated her.

Here she was, meant to be strong - meant to be a true killer. To bring... Well, not exactly honor - but strength, to those people she called family. Yet in this moment she couldn't even do that.

Those burns were in place against the girl's chest - a blackened scar which blended in admirably with her torso. Yet despite the pain, soothing waters washed over it and ensured she wouldn't be unconscious at the very least.

She had never been hurt like this -

She didn't know what to do. Slowly, she made her way back to her feet, dizzy and uncertain. Constance disappeared, only to be replaced by Lady Astoria and even Coraline stepped up in defense of Gabriel.

Asma, meanwhile, had to deal with losing.
(Asma)
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[23:32] As is a miner's calling in general, Pluto finds himself treading the fine edges of the southern quarry. Osronan territory, though rarely ever kept under vigil. Maybe due to a general lack of armed men to set up, one too many militarized endeavors finally turning them passive for a change.

Yet, the evening does not quite invoke the earthly peace that this tall worker of the caverns oft became recipient to. The smell of charred wood and singed leaves poisons the air, a dense smog that envenoms the sky looming overhead the treetops.

His nostrils - used to the scent of brimstone and earthly fumes - fear not the harrowing scent. They read the omen in the air, shoot up adrenaline down his big and sluggish limbs. Fibers writhe, they contort and strain in order to push him forwards and deeper into the woods.

The source of the flares and charred grass proves itself obvious. He sees the dryad and beastkin; a wounded and struggling Asma in the midst of woe. Lastly, breaking the bulwark look of the miner, a felled friend… at the mercy of wildfire incarnate in a hysterical fox.

"Why--- are you down there?" The olive skinned bruiser fails to process it, fingers twitching whilst Coraline wails at the top of her lungs. Lastly, Constance's silhouette contorts and morphs to adjourn itself to an urban myth's likeness. It, too, takes Pluto time to mathematically comprehend the stakes involved in this sudden transfiguration.

Constance was gone, and in her place Lady Astoria had supplanted.
Constance gone, Lady Astoria here.
Constance not here, just in time for her apparition.

…

Constance is Lady Astoria. It had checked out eventually, even if this lull nearly proved to be his foil.

Regardless of it, Pluto's ire does not fail to evoke, his fellow Novusian Vanguard shown vulnerable... fate dangled on a string. It causes him to shift from an immovable object to an unstoppable force, a full throttle sprint ahead breaking.

Desperate, blinded by temper and brawn alike. Trying to do anything to see Gabriel released.

"Let him GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
(Pluto)
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[23:39] Silence begets the Dryad, as they watch it all over. How the one who attempted to intervene for her fallen friend.

The rustling of leaves within the forest, stops. As if the very leaves had been frozen in time. A slow blue tinge creeps at the edges of the clearing, as the Dryad lumbers closer upon their advances.

One of the girls, even taking on an entirely separate form. Something the Reaper certainly didn't expect.

Something that disturbed her- The Dryad despised the unknown.

Before long, however, the lanky figure is behind Constance- Or whatever woman this had become. A shadow lurching over her figure.

"We are Hel's Culling."

"We embrace death, at whatever turn it may arise."

"You know nothing."

The words are practically hissed through her sharp, canine like teeth.

"You will judge nothing."

A glance, is now paid towards Coraline. Raising a hand, to point.

"Tell Vasilli to stop avoiding me. When you leave here."

The words are uttered blankly, as if the Dryad held little concern for the situation at hand.

Yet the advance? That much is blatantly obvious. The ground underfoot shudders as roots tower their way upwards, in flameproof vines. Alongside them, spurts of sudden volcanic activity, as if the very land were tearing itself apart at their feet. No warning- This were simply the outcome of their continued pursuits.
(Dionaea)
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[00:06] "No," she retorts.

Her hand graces her chest, the flickers of flames bursting as she bleeds the very aspect of fire. "I know far far too closely."

In the providence of so brushes the duo's charge. From her repertoire comes the lingering heat of boiling blood. The personification of anger made manifest, ironic as the previously nervous wreck of a teenager now held a level of calm across her countenance.

Bursts of flame cascade free, drawn from the bool of sanguine excretion's from previously hidden cuts underneath her sleeves. Pulled free would their scars reveal themselves, seemingly far too numerous to be but a simple showing of happenstance.

From it does her magic manifest, freed as the very aspect of her so called Phoenix Light Concordance expose a level of prowess.

And yet, that is to say their assailant were not any better. For against the thrashing heat of ethereal flame comes the very dangers of mother nature itself.

Against her strides of burnt blood clashes the magmatic eruptions of disaster. A struggle, by all means, was assured. For in the strides of their combat, there are points of faltering movements, brought low by the molten mud beneath her heel.

For dryads speak not simply of the woodlands, but of nature itself.

Such were made prominent in this instant.

"Perhaps there is an accord in your actions. After all, I had foreseen the death of Novus. And in my visions, I had seen natural disasters come free from its wake," she utters, staggering to stand to her feet, barely eeping a final spell as her staff is raise. "Suffice to say, I now see what the heavens had told me."

"It was you. Such magnificence in thy requiem."

From the tip of her staff, there is a casted spell. The very life-flow of blood from their assailant heats up, rapidly. It boils, eventually departing with a lasting implosion of ruptured blood hemorrhaging from within.

"Seal of the Nine Hells: Sanguine Coffin!"

Her spell is cast as the magic manifests. The struggling form of Lady Astoria unfurls the wicked runes before she succumbs to the magma as the very form of Dionaea ceases action, held by bubbling blood in-place.

The perfect point for her companion to strike.
(Lady Astoria)
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[00:06] Kitava says, "Mmm."
[00:07] Big Milton says, "Seems da locals 'ave taken care uh dis'un already, Kivata."
[00:12] What could she do, really? Her fire had started to falter. The core in the chest was the only reason the fox kept burning.
All of that, and Gabriel was retrieved. What had she done?

..She'd made a point. That was what.

Her wings spread. Her arms spread. She breaks into another laugh. As the man drags her quarry away. It's funny, to her. That the dryad fell. Demanding with such confidence that the fox succeed, only to be beaten mere moments after that very fox ripped victory from the void. A sweet irony.
Had she improved?
Truly?

Have the hands finally struck twelve?

Her blade trembles. Flame burns out her dying laughter, 'till naught is left but the fire. The whole clearing, ablaze. Blood, ash, the earth mangled and disfigured. The site of countless battles in a single night. She offers no words. She has none for them. More abominations arrive. The fox. The ogre. And whatever else tailed behind them. Her eyes curve in her burn-laden visage, prosthetic half gaze flicking between those who looked at her with disgust. Yes, she had played the villain tonight. For them. All because of a single threat. A single suggestion, that one may strike to take what is dearest from her. A family she never deserved, but a family she would kill for. And opposition would be met with severe and unforgiving consequence.

Footsteps.
Her head rolls.
Reynaud.

The fox screams across the ground, her fire parting from her body, to curl around them both instead; to leave him untouched by aught but her body's heat. Her arms cross over him in the twirl she entraps him with. He may stay... If he's brave enough to defy her.
(Chiase Yomeshi)
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[00:13] So do Coraline and the venerable Lady Astoria lash out to beat the breaks off of Dio in a last ditch attempt to see their beloved Gabriel freed from the clutches of the Demon Slayers.

The rapid razuka herself wields a mixture of chronomancy and the occult, yet her magics have always been the backseat to her fighting style: it's the more physical aspects which compensate for her lacking magics, her blows striking forth with precision to try cut and cleave tendrilled vines and lurid plantlife alike, all which the dryad conjures to block the path.

Such is done with speed and finesse, though arguably not grace; she is less of a dancer and more of a rabid animal, missing only the froth at the mouth in her frenzied, brutal assault forwards.

"You stinky, stupid, nasty, wretched, mean, idiotic, smelly, worthless, dense, mindless, dreadful, mindless, repulsive, sickening, fat-headed, pigfaced, crazy, halfwitted, horrid, ugly sicko!"

"Sicko, sicko, sicko!"

Breathless are the words which fling forth akin to daggers of their own, vitriol lashed from her tongue in tandem with strikes which lash from her blade, deftly wielded as an extension of her own arm to sunder flesh and see those arresting petals of Dio's floral arsenal besmirched by her own blood.

So does her moment arrive, however, as Lady Astoria sees Dio entombed by bubbling blood, prime setup for the move to follow.

She charges forwards across the battlefield with the speed and determination of a freshly shot howitzer shell, leaping up into the air with such vastness that her footing finds the shoulders of Lady Astoria, whom she uses as a platform to jump further still.

"DIE, DIE, DIE!" Coraline squeals mid flight, blade grasped between the digits of both hands, point tipped down so that when she plummets into Dionaea, that sharpened length may glide clean into her chest and plummet into its depths.

By a stroke of divine luck, the wild-eyed razuka misses every single major organ in the blow, yet instead she sunders flesh and ribs alike in a blow most painful.

It's the only one she makes, however, confident she's pierced something fatal and that the woman will assuredly bleed out and die in time.

Her task complete, her foe vanquished, there's only one thing on her mind: the recovery of their future King, Gabriel.
(Coraline)
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[00:18] His steps are slow as he wanders on out into the field, hands resting within his pockets as his eyes fall upon the hellish battlefield that had been made during his absence.

What exactly had happened here? Ah. Chiase. That's what happened. His eyes fall upon the Dryad and then back to Chiase. "Oh-" Is all that gets out of him before she's already RIGHT on top of him.

He's in no way brave enough to try and defy her this when she's in such a state. No doubt he was going to be dragged off before long. Though he does watch the Dryad a little longer.

Hopefully they were going to be alright. Eh, he could patch them up later back at the tower.
(Reynaud Agana)
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[00:24] Her grip on him tightens, and a wall of flame erupts from her body. He doesn't fight her, and is subsequently whisked away on her wings aflame as the fox takes off like a rocket. Using what little remained in her body to take him away. To safety. Before one of these psychopaths tried to take him from her.
After all, they were the good guys, here.
And these people, were the bad.
That was how it was. How it would always be.
And she would enjoy burning them away, just like Janet. For daring, even a moment, to threaten the one close to her.
(Chiase Yomeshi)
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[00:24] And so they fought. Dionaea pushed herself, and as a product of testing just where her boundaries lie? She soon discovers their location- When the blood in her veins would freeze in time, leaving her to stare at Coraline. Two beady, emerald eyes that grow not in fear or panic, as her blade gets closer- but excitement. Some twisted emotion that truly betrays the situation she finds herself within.

Despite the eruptions and lashing forces of nature- Howe they sprawled to subdue and overtake the two, they only manage to bat the mage to the side... Emerald vision hazed over a shade of red, stained from the blood that flows over her in reside from a former exchange.

And yet, that white, now stained crimson smile never shuts- Teeth wide, and their fanglike composure shining through in delight, even through the agony of her veins and arteries locking up.

Die, die, die. The very last thing she feels, before the sinking feeling of cold metal stabbing through her chest.

A feeling most foreign, as her once untouched, perfectly woundless skin is now marred. Upon her chest, just below the collar bone- She misses everything... And in that moment, for the fear of her downed companion is nigh, now- A final spell cast... The blade is gripped with a bare hand.

The Dryad's own blood spills, as the sword is sunk deeper, and deeper within her- subsequently pulling Coraline forward, to stare mere inches from her face.

"You rotten little bitch."

"Hide."

Blood drips from her mouth- still wide, snarling whites in a grin everlasting...

Before violently shoving forward, separating the two, as her sword is withdrawn from her figure, leaving the Dryad slumping forward... Almost drunken in appearance.

And yet, she never falls... Simply, standing there.
(Dionaea)