❪ event ❫ hour of ruin

[natha]

HOUR OF RUIN     Sometime after midnight, after preparations have been put aside in favor of drinks and rest, a thunderous beating of wings shatters the air — the High Dragon Ysverai, once again risen. The sound echoes high off Namarak Mountain, but travels easily to both Wyver and Olympia: scream after scream rends the still night, as though a creature were dying rather than being born again. Having only had days to plan their defense against the creature, Olympia and Wyver snatch up their arms. The Royal Guard and the Knightryders can be seen on their steeds hurrying through the cities, because Ysverai doesn't remain isolated at the mountain's peak for long. There are pictures of Ysverai in abundance throughout both cities, but the creature that circles in the sky looks nothing like the majestic creature spoken of in history books. Even from far below, wounds and lacerations can be seen marring what should be smooth scales, and blood falls with every beat of the dragon's wings. The damage becomes more clear when moonlight illuminates Ysverai, revealing the rotting dragon for all to see. The sight of flesh peeling away and thick blood where it oozes from his cracked, greyish hide is as frightening as the power he possesses. REASON'S TRANSCENDENCE     Mad from the anguish of his forced revival, Ysverai will show none of his renowned wisdom or compassion, mindless and seeking to inflict his pain onto whatever emerges in his path. His very presence creates chaos: animals (Olympia | Wyver) domesticated and wild, flee from the merest hint of his approach, panicked and stampeding in wild droves. The reason is obvious: organic matter exposed too long to his presence begins to rot and decay. A field he lands in rots and lies fallow. Buildings crack and crumble, their supports pitted and corroded as though they've been left in disrepair for years. Even the ground that Ysverai walks upon is tainted; a corrosive sludge bubbles up in his massive, clawed footsteps, the ground beneath him putrefied and toxic, oozing corruption. This sludge can be tar-like, poisonous and sucking people in like quicksand; panic, and you'll only sink faster. Prolonged exposure to Ysverai takes a mental toll on anyone in his proximity as well. Effects similar to those from being near his heart — selfish desires and lowered inhibitions — will begin to fester in those around him. Every time Ysverai roars, pain will run through all those that hear him — a pain not just physical, but of true, anguished heartbreak. Those who hear Ysverai will feel (to a degree of your choosing) a sharing of his pain, the agony of flesh rotting from their bodies, blood oozing from under their skin, and a terrible, incandescent fury — and beneath that, a gut-wrenching sadness. This effect is further enhanced by any exposure to Ysverai's blood, and being drenched in greater quantities will cause one to become more in sync with the dragon. Finally, Ysverai is aggressive, attacking anyone and anything that approaches. He starts by breathing out a smog, acidic and putrefying — characters caught directly by this attack will find that medicine and healing magic of any kind hurts them for hours after exposure. The dragon will ignite the smog to breathe fire, if sparingly. IN WYVER     Ysverai's shadow falls over the near reaches of Wyver first. Upon hearing Ysverai's cry, the dragons in Wyver become completely frenzied, turning against their partners among the Knightryders without the slightest resistance. Those familiar with dragons might deduce that they're in pain, though they don't show any sign of injury. The dragons knock their riders off their backs in midair and dive at citizens, jaws wide. Any attempts to soothe them will be long fought, achieved with great difficulty, and will see them retreat into a cowering state. It's not just the airborne Knightryders taking to the defense of the city however, and people on the ground are mobilizing as well. On rooftops across the city are cannons set to fire harpoons. And if the spearheads alone aren't enough to injure the beast, they're coated with a paralyzing poison as well. Unfortunately, the soldiers stationed on the rooftops are prime targets to the frenzied dragons populating Wyver's skies, leaving the cannons open for ordinary citizens to use should they choose. Left alone too long, and cannons may fall under the control of the few remaining radicals that had opted not to flee the cities to join up with their leader Raysc, choosing instead to wait for an opportune moment to unleash their anger on the people of Wyver. These radicals will need to be dealt with before they can turn the cannons upon Wyver's defenders. IN OLYMPIA     In Olympia, the gryphon partners of the Royal Guard react with immediate hostility to anyone showing signs of Ysverai's influence. Their keen senses allow them to pick up the smell of Ysverai's blood and they attack anyone with so much as a drop of tainted blood on them. Those who bear lingering effects of Ysverai's mental attack and who remain in sync with the dragon after hearing Ysverai's cry are also targeted and must face the gryphons' wrath without mercy or restraint. The gryphons must be disabled, for Olympia will not look upon any injury to their prized steeds lightly. However, the gryphons also show some resistance to Ysverai's cry, which is a great boon in battle against the dragon — gryphons that have lost their riders will be available for use, able to carry two passengers at a time. The people of Olympia aren't planning to restrict their offense to pure brute force, and the mages of the city can be seen across Olympia wielding enchanted chains, using telekinesis in the hopes of restraining Ysverai and assisting in the airborne troops. But like the decaying buildings and wildlife, Ysverai is warping the magic around him, the chains faltering as they approach him, whipping back toward the city instead to cage whoever happens to be closest. It's not just the enchanted chains either, but other magic might behave erratically in his presence, as if the very essence of the spells have been corrupted. VIRTUOUS VERSE     Both cities realize they need to seek survival rather than victory against Ysverai, switching gears to carry out diversion efforts and evacuation plans. It falls to refugees to continue the offensive while the Royal Guard and the Knightryders devote their attention to ensuring the safety of the citizens as they flee. With official forces stretched thin, civilians and refugees alike will also need to step up to help herd citizens toward safety among a maze of collapsing buildings. Others will need to see to gathering resources for the evacuation, and while gathering non perishables is easy enough, it's considerably harder to wrangle livestock into cooperating amidst such chaos. Those fighting may be asked to act as bait for Ysverai. Chatter through official troops speaks of a switch in strategy: the objective now is capture the dragon's attention and draw him away from the populous cities and towards the South Outpost. Whether or not it's possible to defeat the dragon remains uncertain, but there's no question that it will be easier to battle him without worrying about civilians. THE RAGE     Luckily, the dragon is indiscriminate in his rage, and easily lured so long as a suitably infuriating target is before him. It doesn't take long to draw him to the South Outpost, but the trail of destruction he leaves in his wake is vast. Once there, the combined forces are greeted not just by Ysverai, but also by the appearance of Ysverai's master. How bravely you've all come to meet your doom! Great heroes, one and all, ha! I welcome you, bring your best. Show me the power that's protected Olympia and Wyver, all that you have to offer me, whatever pitiful excuse for valor you seek to cling to when the fear has you cowering in your beds. All will be for naught in the face of Ysverai's might! Let history witness the day the glory of war is reignited — the day that Wyver remembers its fangs once more! Come, Ysverai, last and greatest of the High Dragons! Come, and restore Wyver to its rightful place! Come, fulfill the promise as our protector that you could not in life! Raysc lifts a gleaming device as he issues his command. Red lights blink and blood, the same oozing liquid that drips from Ysverai's many wounds, runs in clear tubes through the device. Ysverai rears back as Raysc makes adjustments to a control panel — and then lunges forward, mouth agape. With a single swallow, Raysc meets his end. Raysc's attempt to control the dragon has only enraged him further, spurring Ysverai on to new heights of fury. It's become more vital than ever to face the dragon and take him down here and now. A few effective strategies are learned from research efforts and observed while defending Olympia and Wyver: goading the dragon into breathing fire will hurt him, burning him from the inside out, and attacks to his joints, eyes, wings, and exposed bone are effective. Ice is a natural repellent to dragons and can be used defensively or to weaken the dragon's hide. Healing spells will also react unnaturally to Ysverai's flesh, hastening his decay. However, while concentrated efforts will lock him down, Ysverai cannot be permanently killed in this state — his flesh constantly rots and spawns anew. Attacking him here is to protect civilians, keeping him busy to avoid mass destruction elsewhere. Therefore, the battle is one of attrition, a matter of a race against time. You must destroy his flesh faster than it is able to regenerate to have any hope of victory. Finally, when Ysverai is weakening, little more than bones with a few last vestiges of rotten meat hanging from a skeleton, the pathetic remnants of the last High Dragon takes to the skies. His wings are barely intact enough to carry him, yet desperation lifts him, higher and higher, until he lets out one great, earth-shaking roar. A roar that carries across the battlefield, sending all who hear it to their knees. A roar that shatters the swords in soldiers' hands, that rends apart the very air itself — Ysverai's last act, a great curse upon El Nysa, to bring down the sky. AND THE WORLD STOOD STILL     The terror of Ysverai's destruction hangs overhead — a tear in the sky, darkness pouring through, tendrils reaching down towards El Nysa to swallow up the planet in the dragon's final act of revenge. And yet nothing moves. A halo of brilliant light surrounds the rift in the sky, holding the grasping, hungry tendrils in check. And on the planet, not a creature moves. Not a blade of grass stirs. You're not able to even draw a breath. No matter where you are, not even the heart in your chest is beating. Everything has stopped — time has come to a standstill. In a wash of light, an aurora of transport, you find yourself delivered to Thesa Station. Darma stands before you, her expression solemn, perhaps even grim, though that may just be a trick of the station's harsh lighting. She explains what has happened in short order: planetside, time has been completely frozen. We have seen the birth and end of worlds. The rise and fall of civilizations infinite times over. We have seen all threads of possibilities that could have lead to this very moment... Or should have. Perhaps you might doubt our sincerity when we say this comes as a surprise to us, as well... Special technology has been used to blind us. To this day, we only know of one region capable of creating and utilizing such technology... you will find this technology in a city known as Nadril. We understand that you have created a life down in Wyver and Olympia, but now we must ask that you put that life on pause. We ask you to travel to Nadril and find the original Refugee, and with him, answers. As you will discover, he does not wish to speak to us. It is no matter. By now it is too late to keep the Nysan public unaware of our existence. We commend the efforts of those who wish to protect their comrades on the battlefield below, but a creature like poor Ysverai, twisted and warped, given unnatural life with terrible magic and technology, does not simply go down with manpower. Please, leave Ysverai to us. Time on the planet will remain stopped while we determine how to deal with the dragon. For now, rest and recover your strength. We have returned, and soon, there will be new refugees awakening. Perhaps you might like to prepare yourselves to greet them? I'm sorry that I can't answer more questions, but for now, all our attention must turn to finding a way to stop what Ysverai has wrought. A bank of monitors behind Darma displays the battlefield below: Ysverai's frozen, looming figure and the breach in the sky, and the Natha's halo, holding the destruction back. Though time passes normally on Thesa Station, El Nysa remains frozen, and all Refugees are unable to return to the planet until Ysverai's menace is dealt with. Luckily, with the Natha's return, full functionality has also returned to the station. The lights and environmentals are back to full power, access to all areas has been restored, the cafeteria is serving its normal offerings, and there's no evidence of any glitching or malfunctions. Doubtless, the period of rest is much needed after the hard-fought battle. For now, with time on El Nysa at a standstill, there's little else to be done but enjoy the reprieve aboard Thesa Station. FINAL OOC NOTE     Characters that reach an AC length action thread in this event will receive 2 rep for all factions, including Natha. Note that while these are split up for ease of processing, players may submit for all three. OLYMPIA | WYVER | NATHA Players can expect this event to run three days ICly before everyone is teleported to Thesa Station! From thereon, all characters will be grounded at the Station until the Test Drive Meme later this month. QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs ● bestiary taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp ● quest bulletin calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[milesedgelord]

It is fine if you cannot.

[Miles shifted awkwardly, hesitating before patting his arm, rather awkwardly. He was really no good at comfort. He took a deep breath and leaned back, crossing a leg over the other.

It felt like this place only had one shock after another since he had arrived. He was getting used to this sense of helplessness, despite everything.

No it was better to try and focus on what good he could do, rather than all he couldn't.]

[stripebacked]

[ He cares very little for what's stained her person. He's never been afraid to hold her close and that's not going to stop him. Not to mention the countless times she clung to him when he was in worse shape. He loves his wife and nothing will keep him from holding her. Kissing her and keeping her as close as he can after they've settled. His eyes do search her though. Hoping to not see any injury or anything that he would need to make someone answer for.

There's a quick shake of his head, but he doesn't pull back. Not really. ]

No, mo nighean donn. I'm alright.

[ He breathes out and cuddles closer. ]

No one's laid a hand on ye have they?

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Any hurt is from the terror of a rotting dragon overhead.]

I'm fine.

[For now.]

I... I need to find Theon, and Sansa. If we're all up here, that means that bastard probably is, too.

[baldesion]

[Even at her most gentle, there is no way to stop a little discomfort before she even starts a spell. Pale light grows in the space between her right hand and Mantis's wrist, deadening the pain and replacing it with the sense of a soft breeze white the spell does its work.]

That's quite some time to leave it untreated, I'm afraid. [But not too long, she hasn't done any permanent damage to her broken fingers.] Not that we had any time.

[About which Krile is not the least bit sour. No. No no. (She's both comforted and perturbed by how easily she's brushed aside all the trauma of what she witnessed on the surface. Just by falling into a routine.) With a soft huff she stomps firmly on that inner voice and redoubles her focus on healing.]

[defenses]

[ he insists he's fine, but it doesn't mean vane believes him. but, he does permit him enough slack not to say anything. the light tug at the corner of his lips could easily give away his real thoughts on the matter quite easily though. ] Even if you're "fine" that doesn't mean you can't take extra care.

[ he means it, of course. he's noticed this recently, but there's a lot of people around him who don't readily accept help, huh? or so he considers briefly. if anything though, it didn't and doesn't discourage him. it had the opposite effect, and if anything it made him think he needed to try harder. to deliver more care.

like now. ] How? [ ....???? ]


... hold on!! [ he only hesitates for a second, before he starts removing his outer layer. despite it seeming complicated, his hands move quickly enough as they were long accustomed, and it's here he tosses it right over rohan. it's heavy, but he presumes it'd not only mask his scent, but also protect him. he probably should haver given rohan some sort of heads-up though. as it stands, he pretty much just draped it on him out of nowhere. didn't even give him a chance to out his arms through the shirt's sleeves.

the only courtesy he has given though is at least he hasn't put the shoulder piece on him. yet. ] Heh heh, how's that?

Olympia

[devilcalling]

[ Slowly lowering herself some feet away, yet still well above the ground proper is one (1) Ryoko, who has paused her offense and doubled back specifically for the purpose of observing this... person... threatening an aggressive gryphon with what appears to be -- no, no, it is actually a plank. Her brow continues to raise until, exasperated, she starts to fly over. ]

What are you, stupid? Get out of there!

[ Is she talking to him or the gryphon? That's a good question. ]

[baldesion]

Oh, you're monstrously frightening. A creature of the fourth hell at the very least.

[Nerves frayed and aether stores spent, Krile feels the edge of out-of-sorts taking over, putting a tremor in her fingers and too much carelessness in her voice. Her work with her own washcloth has at last taken most of the blood from the scratches that produced it, but she doesn't really want to spare a thought for any less visible wounds.]

I hope you weren't hurt too badly?

[If anyone among the refugees is completely unharmed she'll eat the ears off her cloak.]

[inreturn]

It's alright! The world ended right after, so I can't say I'm too broken up about it.

[He hums at the petting. See, he knows what he's doing. He's utterly convinced he's soothing Chuuya through a little grooming and some tail therapy. All of Chuuya's problems are probably gone now, at least in the moment.

He's a little proud of himself.]

That's a good question. We're all still here, so maybe if they can't fix things they'll just put us somewhere else?

[inaurare]

[he breathes a sigh, glances around to where their supplies are pooled - everything they managed to bring, what little they have managed to scavenge only by putting themselves in harm's way]

We're short on water. We stored as much as we could - brought as much as we could here, when the other wings became unsafe, but it's too dangerous to go out for more.

[they've tried rationing but they're still down to their last barrel. It's so hard when it's so needed. But if they didn't have to boil rags to clean and reuse them, that might help as well.]

And if you can find any bandages, any gauze, even clean cloth...

[stripebacked]

[ His wife is like that. Once they're alone and things have settled he can properly get an answer. One that isn't fine, but he knows better than to push when she speaks next. This certainly grabs his attention.

It means Ramsay is up here as well. Running about in closer proximity to them. Jamie lets go of her and steps back to look about the crowd. His hand goes to the handle of his dirk. ]

Do ye want me to find him? I'm sure I could find somewhere to put him. Where he'd do no harm.

[icingonthecake]

"Yeah, I figured you two would be out playing Big Damn Hero," he complains good-naturedly. "Still, I was lookin' for ya. You know, in case you needed some backup."

He's quiet for a moment, then gives Riku a faintly worried look.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, and he hopes Riku understand that he knows that nothing is okay right now, and he's just giving him an opening if something in particular is especially not okay.

[jesus_is_gundam]

[Giant robots are perfectly normal. Being chanced by a fire breathing zombie dragon is weird, but he isn't going to dwell on it. Instead, the moment he has her in hand, he covers her with the other hand of the suit, and immediately fires the thrusters.]

Hang on!

[Its not going to be a smooth ride for her, having to flee from a dragon doesn't give him the luxury of taking it easy. He's doing his best to keep it steady for her, though, so she doesn't get tossed about. He just needs to hold on to her long enough to get her to safety.]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Yikes. Claire is quick to step closer and put her hand over his. No shanking, even if Claire would love it.]

Not just yet. If he's foolish enough to make a move, then it can be his last. The important thing is just being aware of where Theon and Sansa are. Theon's the one I'm worried about.

[What's new?]

III-B

[guidetoblivion]

[Shaken is a good word... one that Riku would certainly use for his current state, sitting in the mess hall with his head in his hands – he's never fought for days at a time not against a singular enemy anyway, not against one that could rot away flesh and land and tear the skies in half to let the Darkness in.

He's seen worlds destroyed before – light, he's unwittingly caused the first destruction of his own home world… and he can't quite help but be stuck at that now, at the destruction of the Islands, the horror of the time when Zexion had made him relive it now knowing what he had done and the terror that is still in his bones from fighting Yversai, the pain and the sorrow… he can't quite shake it yet.

Then a mug of something (tea?) is set down before him and he can't help but look up at the woman in front of him, tensing for a second before he relaxes again.]

Uh, yea. I will be anyway.

[He thinks. Soon enough there will be something else to focus on at least, and then he'll have to snap himself out of his stupor.]

[stripebacked]

[ He wasn't going to kill him. Not here anyways. Too many people to see. Not to mention closer to those in charge. He'd simply abduct him and stick him somewhere where he could do little harm to the two. His weapon was simply a way to get the job done. It's not like he went for his sword. ]

It's likely too difficult to follow them both, Claire.

[ Jamie looks at her. ]

Ye'd be better off if ye had eyes on him the whole time. Easier to follow one than two.

[sparsity]

[ tarp? it's called fashion honey, look it up ]

A path...

[ Bones pop, made malleable by rot and magic Mikazuki barely understands, more wet and foreboding than the sound of gunfire, though twice as loud. The air shudders as the dragon's corpse lurches through it until it's on them again, haze and fury wafting from its exposed ribs and errant teeth. In his cockpit, his expression creases, serious.

Like this, it'll be endless. They're not dealing enough damage to pry it apart for good.

With a piercing roar, it pushes forward on its path, single-minded. Mikazuki keeps Barbatos at a steady clip backwards, pulsing the verniers. It's only when Setsuna stays his course that he starts to understand, not as slow on the uptake in a battle as he might seem out of one. ]

Bait, huh?

3. i do what i want

[stripebacked]

[ He will admit he's seen the man very little since his return. Claire's taken to tending him and Jamie's been guarding the home (when Sansa is indeed there) hoping that Ramsay would try anything so he could have an excuse to simply end him. To remind him he's not untouchable. Especially here. There wasn't any time recently to come face to face with the man and talk. But now it seems they've been given time. Literally almost. But Jamie is just as worried about Theon and Sansa as Claire is. Especially when he knows that Ramsay won't simply stay silent or keep his distance.

It takes a moment to recognize the man as the one with the crossbow who once stood up for him. But he's well aware of what prolonged torture and manipulation can do to a man. Though Jamie's damage these days is more psychological than physical. Whatever physical damage remains is easily hidden from the public view. Something he prefers. ]

Yer looking well, lad.

[ At least he's alive. He's upright. That's one thing he hasn't taken from him. It's the one thing that Randall didn't take from him either. He could take his soul, but Claire showed him to cling to his life. Even when he didn't want to. ]

b!

[punshots]

[ It's not the first time Prompto has heard You sing, though it's certainly been awhile, a long while since she sang to him on that little rowboat down the river. He knows how much she loves music—as much as he loves photography, and that's saying something—but this is about the last place Prompto expects to hear her voice once more. The battle rages on, the land is torn and burning and he can't quite see her yet, but Prompto knows You's voice. She's singing, and...

It's revitalizing him, not unlike the magic shared among the Crownsguard did. A warm, healing feeling washes over him, encouraging him to keep moving, and it's just like he has one of his buddies there at his side, clapping him on the shoulder and pushing him onward.

Had she always been able to do that?

It takes him a a few minutes as he follows the sound of her voice, but finally Prompto locates You away from the center of battle, and jogs up to her side. It's much easier to do so, with the way her song has soothed his fatigue. It's incredible. ]

You! I-I didn't know you could do that!

[ ...He hasn't noticed the dragon approaching yet. ]

[punshots]

[ Even if she doesn't try to meet his gaze, Prompto casts his eyes aside, letting them fall on his shuffling feet. ]

No. They didn't.

[ Did she know? About this particular talent of the Natha's? He wouldn't be surprised if she did, but in his experience, he only knows one other besides himself who has gone through this. X'rhun had died only to return a few days later. Alisaie had seen him go, and that was good enough for Prompto to believe it, but still it...

It shouldn't be possible. Had it happened to others? Did the Natha make their choices, in who to save and who to not, just as they had when the Storm came? ]

[sparsity]

That's right.

[ He affirms, the suit's green eyes flaring up and suppressing the red glow that was threatening to overtake it. With its animal joints and long bladed tail, the image of the machine is more the image of a gleaming guard dog than it is of a human. ]

I think it's helping, if I can hear it.

[ Ysverai might be louder, but when the voice runs through the audio in the cockpit, Barbatos listens better — soothed from the dragon's rage, somehow. ]

[originallutece]

Who did?

[And now her voice dips into something colder, a two word sentence that begs for an answer.

Who hurt him? She’s no crusader, full of bloodlust and eager to go on a rampage, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t protective. Rosalind’s mouth goes thin, her stomach twisting in slow-burning fury. Who did, who touched him, who hurt him, and how dare they? How dare anyone touch something of hers, something precious and kind and bright, better than herself, humane and empathetic and sweet— and who would be so stupid? Who could possibly delude themselves into thinking they could do such a thing without facing retaliation? ]

[baldesion]

They're reasonably intelligent, are they not? [She...doesn't know. Are they more akin to chocobos or beastmen or the dragons she knows best? Though the lattermost is least likely, considering then she'd have a chance at understanding them.] Mayhap they can be shaken from it as we can, though I can't fathom how.

[They don't talk in the way that Hydaelyn's dragons tend to, so shouting at them probably will not pass muster. But what, then?

Meanwhile the dragon has broken free of the mud's grip and advances at them both, all claws and comparatively miniature anguished cries.]

[reek]

[ He frowns, looking doubtful. He can hardly keep himself together, and he already seems to be a magnet for Ramsay whenever he’s out of Maximus or Claire’s sight.

You don’t need me to keep her safe at all, he thinks, suspicious. It’s the other way around. You’re afraid I’ll do something stupid.

Still, Ramsay is…oddly smart. Smarter than Theon recalls. He was always clever to a certain extent, but this Ramsay seems to be more in control of his temper and his urges. It’s terrifying, but it does offer some sort of relief. He won’t try anything in such a crowded place. Surely he wouldn’t. The last time he had pulled his knife, they had been alone. ]

I don’t know what I can do.

[ He has no weapons, and no other means of keeping anyone safe. He knows Claire is needed with the injured, though. He isn’t going to tell her no. ]

I’m—I’m nothing. I can do nothing.

i

[punshots]

Shit!

[ The poor soul Gamora yanks out of the way just happens to be Prompto. As the dragon lunges for him, all he can think about how Alisaie will kill him if he gets eaten by a dragon, which may seen counter-intuitive, but whatever. He braces himself, unable to pull himself out of the way in time—but then someone else is doing the pulling for him, and Prompto falls inelegantly back on his ass while Gamora takes the brunt of the attack for him.

At first, he can only stare in abject horror, before remembering he can fight, too, and in a flash of light, a handgun appears in his waiting grip. Before he can fire, however, Gamora starts to move with the beast, dragging it down until it looks almost submissive. Holy shit, he knew she was strong, but he didn't realize—

Holy shit.

He meets her look with a bewildered wonder, and concern. She still has a very real dragon latched onto her arm, after all. ]

F-fit as a fiddle, thanks to you, um—your arm???

[ He gestures wildly. THEY SHOULD DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS. ]

[comportable]

( now is hardly the time for pick up lines, but roxy is friends with the likes of eggsy unwin, so it's not like she's entirely unused to cheesiness or inappropriate banter. though she'd like to say eggsy is somewhat more charming than this. still: roxy may not be a knight in shining armor, but she's got space on this gryphon and she isn't going to leave someone just because their response to the chaos around them is inappropriate.

of course, that might just be his default and not a somewhat strange reaction to fear, but it makes no difference right now.

for a moment, her lips purse —but then she's reaching out, taking his hand and helping him up. very dryly: ) If you cop a feel, I'm pushing you off again.

( but a moment later, once he's settled behind her and she sets her heels to the gryphon's sides, urging it into action again, she softens her tone. ) Are you all right?