(Untitled)

[screwperseus]

Characters: Medusa and anyone who happens along!
Location: The forest.
Time: Dusk.
Style: Any.
Status: Open!

Medusa isn't dressed in her usual black dress and lab coat. She's wearing what she considers to be her real clothing, walking purposefully through the forest. She isn't exactly concerned about passerby seeing her, but she also isn't looking to

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[hatetodismiss]

He dives backwards, flipping out of range of most of the arrows. A few slice into him, tearing slits in his clothing and opening gashes on his skin, ripping into one arm and down his chest. He will heal quickly enough that the injuries won't be a problem, but at the same time, even letting the witch land a hit is abhorrent to him. That parting shot about his Honorable Father doesn't help his anger.

It's an anger that builds and builds and suddenly slips right into place. Anger is pointless. He just needs that cold killing intent that's always been there, hiding low and buried in his soul.

His expression shifts as well, almost bored, eyes half-closed and mouth in a firm line. The most obvious visible change is to his clothing, white Spartoi uniform changing to black suit and cravat. However, if Medusa bothers to use her sixth sense, she can easily feel how his wavelength changes, the insanity that's always been there coming bright and strong to the fore.

Death the Kid charges back at the witch, far faster and far stronger than before. He is going to dodge the arrows that he can, ignore the injuries he cannot prevent, and try to smash the witch into the ground with one well-placed hand to her sternum.

[screwperseus]

Medusa's eyes widen. She certainly feels it before she sees it. She flings herself out of the way with little hope of moving in time, focusing her energy on defensive strength now. She knows she's seriously miscalculated, but the sight and feel of so much power brings a breathless smile in spite of her situation.