The shadows writhed and hissed, seething with the frustrated urge to kill; and yet, they still backed away as the growing circle of light expanded itself outwards, forced back into lurking in the shadows of the Grand Room. For the moment, at least, the trio was safe from them.
March heard nothing Ace said, not the quips, nor the quieter insistence--or if he had, he was incapable of understanding and reacting to it. There was no change in his mental state, no chink in the choke chain of mind control that kept him vicious and strangled his free will. It all simply boiled within him like the flames leaping over his body, a hard, flat, blank slate of mindlessness, with pain and madness and murderous force driving him forward.
Forward and straight through his target entirely, apparently.
The swift rush to kill had not left him prepared to use his common sense, nor had the fact that his humanity was nearly entirely suffocated by the influence of the phantasms; Ace had little more than a face and silhouette holding his flames together by the time the burning man had gotten to him, and so his body offered little to no resistance at all once they finally clashed. The burning man staggered, overbalanced, as he emerged the other side, smoking and flaming and nearly falling outright.
He caught himself soon enough, though, and his eye was caught by the nearest target he was actually capable of touching: Makoto. "It will only get worse the longer you run." He told him, and in spite of his obviously monstrous nature, the advice, the insistence, sounded earnest and even sensible, somehow. If this was how they were greeted, how much more terrible must the rest of the house be, especially the longer they stayed there?
As though to answer the questions his own information might bring up, the burning man darted for Makoto, inhumanly fast as he reached out to seize him.
Makoto swears occasionally. Very occasionally.sonofogamiFebruary 1 2010, 07:36:45 UTC
Makoto, however, did not think this was sensible advice. He didn't even think it was advice at all--fire aside, the only thing he could really do was drop and roll out of March's way before climbing to his feet and making a break for it, the blood from the gash on his leg soaking through his torn pants. He didn't have time to answer Ace, not in the process of escaping the towering figure of flame, fast as it was--it was only once he'd gained a couple of yards that he said anything, and it was more of a yell, tossed over his shoulder and spiked with anger and the preoccupation of running for his life from some very tall, very angry ghost:
"Yes, damnit!"
He was not in the mood for this: he didn't have a chance to fight this spirit if he wasn't out of body and he didn't need some equally crazy man of fire fighting or attracting or whatever the other man of fire--if he couldn't already see he was bleeding... running out into the dark of the grand room with the shadows might have been a stupid idea, but it was the best chance he had. It might have been the only chance. He'd been able to kick those shadow things in the face with just his shoe and with this in mind, he made a beeline for the furniture--just a little more...
Ace swears when he's breathing. Also...directing people takes long time. *Had to pull up MAPS*sleepy_fireFebruary 1 2010, 09:44:06 UTC
Fuck.
They were both fucking bleeding. La de fucking da. Something out there hated his guts.
"You're both going to do exactly as I say-" And then March ran through him, whoops.
Shit! "March! Goddamit!" He tackled him, trying his best to throw the burning man off balance again. He kept the grip, trying to at least anchor him in place. "Mathew! BRAT! Fucking listen to me! You're going to go to that door to the fucking hall, Brat you grab something and make fire or else the shadow things are going to jump you. March is going to follow us the entire fucking way, but I've gotta be fire to keep the fucking hounds off you two since you're fucking bleeding. At the top of the stairs there is an art gallery, at the other end there are stairs, look for the fucker with the broken neck and wait for him to be as far out of the fucking way as you can and then just fucking run. There's an attic at the top of the fucking stairs, and a stair case leading down from there into another room."
He paused, pushing the circle of fire out farther to keep the protection up when Brat started to move, pulling up the path in his head. Brat seemed more proactive than Mathew, but he hoped Mathew was gonna be willing to take direction out of this. "You'll come out in a room full of heavy shit, you keep running and find a stair case down. Go down. If there are monsters YELL, I will keep them off of you. You need to reach the end of that hallway, fucking go LEFT, the room looks like a goddamned torture chamber but it's safe, if you can make it there you will be alright. DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND?"
March heard nothing Ace said, not the quips, nor the quieter insistence--or if he had, he was incapable of understanding and reacting to it. There was no change in his mental state, no chink in the choke chain of mind control that kept him vicious and strangled his free will. It all simply boiled within him like the flames leaping over his body, a hard, flat, blank slate of mindlessness, with pain and madness and murderous force driving him forward.
Forward and straight through his target entirely, apparently.
The swift rush to kill had not left him prepared to use his common sense, nor had the fact that his humanity was nearly entirely suffocated by the influence of the phantasms; Ace had little more than a face and silhouette holding his flames together by the time the burning man had gotten to him, and so his body offered little to no resistance at all once they finally clashed. The burning man staggered, overbalanced, as he emerged the other side, smoking and flaming and nearly falling outright.
He caught himself soon enough, though, and his eye was caught by the nearest target he was actually capable of touching: Makoto. "It will only get worse the longer you run." He told him, and in spite of his obviously monstrous nature, the advice, the insistence, sounded earnest and even sensible, somehow. If this was how they were greeted, how much more terrible must the rest of the house be, especially the longer they stayed there?
As though to answer the questions his own information might bring up, the burning man darted for Makoto, inhumanly fast as he reached out to seize him.
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"Yes, damnit!"
He was not in the mood for this: he didn't have a chance to fight this spirit if he wasn't out of body and he didn't need some equally crazy man of fire fighting or attracting or whatever the other man of fire--if he couldn't already see he was bleeding... running out into the dark of the grand room with the shadows might have been a stupid idea, but it was the best chance he had. It might have been the only chance. He'd been able to kick those shadow things in the face with just his shoe and with this in mind, he made a beeline for the furniture--just a little more...
Reply
They were both fucking bleeding. La de fucking da. Something out there hated his guts.
"You're both going to do exactly as I say-" And then March ran through him, whoops.
Shit! "March! Goddamit!" He tackled him, trying his best to throw the burning man off balance again. He kept the grip, trying to at least anchor him in place. "Mathew! BRAT! Fucking listen to me! You're going to go to that door to the fucking hall, Brat you grab something and make fire or else the shadow things are going to jump you. March is going to follow us the entire fucking way, but I've gotta be fire to keep the fucking hounds off you two since you're fucking bleeding. At the top of the stairs there is an art gallery, at the other end there are stairs, look for the fucker with the broken neck and wait for him to be as far out of the fucking way as you can and then just fucking run. There's an attic at the top of the fucking stairs, and a stair case leading down from there into another room."
He paused, pushing the circle of fire out farther to keep the protection up when Brat started to move, pulling up the path in his head. Brat seemed more proactive than Mathew, but he hoped Mathew was gonna be willing to take direction out of this. "You'll come out in a room full of heavy shit, you keep running and find a stair case down. Go down. If there are monsters YELL, I will keep them off of you. You need to reach the end of that hallway, fucking go LEFT, the room looks like a goddamned torture chamber but it's safe, if you can make it there you will be alright. DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND?"
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