[ Hit it does! Blasting the vileling straight in the face, what would surely have blinded it if it weren’t naturally so already. And it bellows for it, spasming and recoiling in such a way it’s hard to tell for a moment if she’s managed to take its head clean off or not.
Next to her, she might notice Allen take a sudden, sharp breath as well, trained towards the roars of the injured monster. Its roars of pain at whatever it was she just did; he can’t tell, but the sharp and ozone-like second-smell of energy (magic) in the air… amidst the continued roars and a thrashing that makes the ground shake…
-- his mask snapping tighter and Crown Clown’s cowl pulling snug around his face, bundled like some odd sort of downy eskimo, that would be the only warning. That, and how he reaches then for his own left wrist, touching it lightly as if to grasp a hilt. She’ll might be mad at him, but…
He can’t just sit still either.
So he leaps forward without saying a word, like some lightning bloodhound straight for the roaring monster--and begins to pull at his wrist. Drawing from it in such a way that, in a brilliance of light that flashes then, it’s almost like he’s drawing a sword from himself.
Probably because he is. A giant broadsword then, gleaming white and gold, as long and broad as he is, and wielded with his one remaining arm as if it weighs nothing. That he also leaps headfirst into the monster headfirst with as it rears up on high, its maw hanging loose and bloody as Lux has blasted most of its jaw off, not with a cry or shout, but merely gritting his teeth tight and bearing down with all his weight into the creature.
Which also falls forward onto the Exorcist with its remaining piercing clawed appendages with a shriek as he drives his sword up into the throat of its underbelly. ]
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Next to her, she might notice Allen take a sudden, sharp breath as well, trained towards the roars of the injured monster. Its roars of pain at whatever it was she just did; he can’t tell, but the sharp and ozone-like second-smell of energy (magic) in the air… amidst the continued roars and a thrashing that makes the ground shake…
-- his mask snapping tighter and Crown Clown’s cowl pulling snug around his face, bundled like some odd sort of downy eskimo, that would be the only warning. That, and how he reaches then for his own left wrist, touching it lightly as if to grasp a hilt. She’ll might be mad at him, but…
He can’t just sit still either.
So he leaps forward without saying a word, like some lightning bloodhound straight for the roaring monster--and begins to pull at his wrist. Drawing from it in such a way that, in a brilliance of light that flashes then, it’s almost like he’s drawing a sword from himself.
Probably because he is. A giant broadsword then, gleaming white and gold, as long and broad as he is, and wielded with his one remaining arm as if it weighs nothing. That he also leaps headfirst into the monster headfirst with as it rears up on high, its maw hanging loose and bloody as Lux has blasted most of its jaw off, not with a cry or shout, but merely gritting his teeth tight and bearing down with all his weight into the creature.
Which also falls forward onto the Exorcist with its remaining piercing clawed appendages with a shriek as he drives his sword up into the throat of its underbelly. ]