[Strangely, the hollow sounds beneath their feet continues to echo, and there's a light swell of violins kicking in as Asch begins to walk and their worry begins to seep through to him. The petals seem to push them ahead, nudging them forward as if to encourage them to walk into the field. The lights shift, casting a glow on the two children ahead and singling out Asch. A path is lit before him to allow him to walk ahead, and soon he'll hear a voice that's not quite his own respond.]
"You do it then." [A small, clumsily-made chain of flowers is pushed into the girl's hands as the boy folds his arms over his chest, glaring at the flowers themselves. The grass beneath Asch, Flayn and Dimitri begins to gently brush over their shoes, swaying in the wind and the light focuses on the girl and on Asch. She scowls at the boy, hands quickly fixing the mess he's made to create a solid chain of flowers.]
[he can hear them. feel their concern, worry, soaking into him as they try to pull him backâeven knowing it's not real, knowing in his heart it can't be--
a backsurge of lonliness, longing, yearning for a simpler time rushes into Dimitri and Flayn, drowning the worry with the memory of a love so simple, straightforward, and pure, that he just can't look away, even with the knowledge it's a trick, a trap laid just for him.
he's never been good at avoiding his feelings.
Asch steps forward again, towards the duo in the soft grass, knowing just what she'll do with the chain next. his voice, a strained whisper, says her name like a prayer.]
All of them know it's a trap, but - aren't they already ensnared in it? She lets go of his sleeve, but the longing lingers for a few seconds, and despite herself, she takes a few steps after him.
She should grab his arm and pull him away, she knows -
[ The music rises with them, as does the strange hollow to their steps, and he knows something is wrong. That acknowledgment, the sense of dread, it moves through them too—but so does Asch's love for this simpler time when he still owned his life. Or maybe it's for the girl he's with.
Maybe both. It's enough that his heart aches after it, his hand tightening on Asch's forearm. He knows he has to let go—there's no way he can run them all off while Asch's feelings bleed into him—but for a moment his heart sways for longer than his mind does.
He at least tries to dig his heels in, but he's not stepping back. His voice loses some of its conviction. ]
[There's a slow addition of wind instruments mixed into the sound playing around them, and if they look back the darkness seems to have followed them so the only light shed is from the spotlights. Asch approaches, and when he says her name Natalia turns to tilt her head and look up at him. The flower chain rests in her hands and she gives him a wide-eyed stare. The boy next to her, that replica, frowns in thought but doesn't speak again. The light around her has a soft red hue to it, glowing like the sunset and she holds the chain up for Asch to take.]
"Ready to try again?" [There's kindness in her eyes and her expression, attention focused on Asch for the moment as the chain rests against her palms, almost swaying tantalizingly in the breeze.] "Don't get frustrated."
[with one hand free, he's balanced enough to lean, then kneel down in the grass beside the minute Natalia, all attention focused on her. he can barely breath, as he reaches out to carefully, so carefully, take the chain from her hands.
it's happiness. it's contentment. it's everything he wants, ever wanted, everything he can never have. he can't look away.
[...it's no use, is it? Flayn's voice is low and urgent. There is something terribly wrong here - this memory, because it has to be a memory (or at least be born from one), seems so pleasant, but she remembers the last time she was in a place she thought she remembered.
She grips her staff tightly. If this does turn nasty - she's just going to do her best to defend them, if she can't snap him out of it.]
[ Dimitri's alarmed, but the absolute breadth of Asch's contentment drowns it out, aching fondness and happiness swelling in his chest, a sort of peace settling in over him joined with all the flowers and... music?
It's the flutes and the sound of Flayn's voice that reminds him of the strangeness of the situation. He pulls Asch back, even just a little, before he finally manages to let go. He grabs for the spear at his back, but the lingering haze of gentle emotion saps at any urgency.
Why was he worried about someone like Natalia, again...? ]
[Asch is here and content with the situation, why aren't the rest of you? Gosh! But as he kneels beside her, the chain of flowers begins to lovingly wind around his wrists as Natalia begins to make a new one to show him. There's nothing but happiness in her expression, and she takes Asch's hands in her own to begin creating another chain of flowers.
The blossoms take on a more-pinkish hue as they begin to gather into little strands, winding their way around Asch's waist and soon around his throat.
Perhaps...perhaps, maybe, Dimitri should have continued to hold on. Perhaps Flayn should have tried to steer them in another direction. But as Dimitri grabs his spear and Flayn holds her staff, the lights flood a dusty shade of red to wash over the scene and the piano and wind instruments give way to something else.
Asch is yanked by the neck up, up, and up above them as the edges of the field grow darker. Looking up, they may even spot what appears to be a set of rafters, like what one would find on a stage. The flowers begin to bind Asch tightly as the boy, Luke, takes Natalia's hand and begins to pull her away.
There's no need for them to stay when they have each other, after all.
As the chains of flowers hoist Asch higher, he'll find himself dangling above what appears to be a large, flat violin as the field splits apart and begins to crumble. The strings rise and snap, and as they escape their confines of the violin's body they whip straight for Flayn and Dimitri, sharp metal wires aiming for a strike.]
[there's no time to react. or maybe he doesn't want to. even if it's a trap, just another minute, another second, another moment... wasn't it worth it?
wasn't it?
but as he's pulled up, the chain tightening, the scent all but choking him, he sees his mistake. it hadn't been a memory. the one running with her, pulling her away from him isn't his childhood self.
it's the replica.
he screams, struggling against his restraints, the fury, betrayal, and aching loss of his cry carrying throughout.]
NATALIA!
[he grapples wildly, strength surging with adrenaline, for his sword to cut himself free, even as the flowers pull him in. he can't stop. not here. not now.]
[There's no time. Poised as she is to smack something - or someone. Natalia? Luke? - with her staff as she is, she isn't quick enough to let go with one of her hands to try and grab him - and before she can do anything about it, the chain of flowers is pulling him up and away, out of their reach.
Oh, hell.
He's suspended from - something. Rafters. There must be a way up. She surges forward, intent on seeking it out, and catches the glint of violin strings just in time to throw herself out of their way. It's surprisingly graceful - she's able to use the momentum as she lands to pivot on her foot and continue moving onward, and it almost looks like a dance move.
(Maybe winning the White Heron Cup was good for something after all. She's felt lighter on her feet since then.)]
[ His eyes widen as he grabs at Asch again, but only ends up with a handful of bruised petals, already too late as he's hoisted up towards the rafters and there's the sound of twanging, snapping strings behind him.
His mind fills with curses as he swings around at the noise and Flayn's voice; the ground crumbles under his foot, and the wire clips his shoulder before he corrects himself and rolls out of its path, crouched with his spear drawn at his side.
What the hell was that? ]
Run! I'm right behind you!
[ He can try to cover her, but first, they need to figure out where they're even going. He scans his eyes over the rafters, looking for anything—a catwalk, ropes, a ladder, anything. ]
[The strings lash out again, angry like a cobra's strike as they attempt to slash and cut the two on the ground. Asch dangles from the rafters by the chains of flowers, a loop tightening around his throat as the flowers in his peripheral vision open wide. The petals spread and several eyes, Natalia's and Luke's, stare straight into his own as the wind begins to whisper.]
"Leave. We found a better one. You're no longer needed here."
[As Dimitri and Flayn scour the ground, the grass begins to twist at their feet to try and hold them in place. The strings writhe and snap, and the bow of a violin falls from the side like a loose wooden beam. If they think to check, there's a catwalk, and a few bags of sand tied to ropes used to change the backdrops of the stage. They may have to look for a ladder, but they'll have to dodge and fight their way past the instrument and the grass first.
Oh. And do mind the petals that begin to whirl past them quickly. They're sharp enough to sting now, a glint of red on each one.]
[he's barely breathed in again when the eyes assault him, the susurrus of the wind's words snaking around his neck, slowly choking the life out of him. it's not until he feels the liquid on his cheeks, hot and angry, that Asch realizes he's crying, screaming out in physical and emotional pain. he can barely hear his own voice, scraping raw and hoarse against his restraints.]
NO! NO!
[struggling is getting harder, the vines wrap him tighter, petals cutting against his cheeks, blood and tears mixing together and stinging the wounds.]
She's trying to run - trying to make her way forward, past the instrument and its strings, to the catwalk - but the grass is twisting under their feet, and she nearly stumbles as it winds itself around her ankles.
With a hiss, she reaches into the pack she's brought with her, grips a knife, and slices the grass to free herself. She's off again in an instant, her eyes on the instrument's strings, and as she gets within range she looks up at Asch and the chains of flowers suspending him.
Gritting her teeth, she tries to position herself at an angle where they flowers are as aligned as she can get them, grips her knife just the way she's been taught to, and hurls it upward, aiming to sever the flowers with the blade to free him.
(Niji rolled a natural 20 for me, so at the very least she won't stab him in the gut or something.)]
[ Asch's voice grows scratchier, the field more dangerous—but it doesn't matter how dire. They have to save him.
He slices at the grass growing over his feet, moving briskly to avoid getting stuck as he searches for the start of the catwalk—if they can't find the ladder up, one of them might have to climb the ropes, but with these strings around...
He grits his teeth and ignores the petals flaring up around him as he looks for the neck of the instrument, running ahead of Flayn to try and divert the attention of the whipping strings and bow to afford her an opening. ]
[Now, now, no screaming, Asch. That simply won't do! As he screams, petals begin to flock toward his mouth, slipping past his lips in an attempt to silence him as the eyes of the flower chains continue to blink at him.]
"Leave us alone." [The wind says, gently, almost like a song.] "We don't need a reject anymore."
[Flayn cuts through the grass and runs, flinging her knife and severing one of the chains holding Asch up. He finds himself swinging from the rafters, almost like a pendulum as the music continues to play. Another violin string snaps and if she's not careful, it will strike her across the front to knock her flat. The spotlights focus on Dimitri now as he runs, and as he books it through the field he'll spot stairs in the far corner just out of sight. Backstage, if you will. But he'll have to move fast: a loud, angry buzzing sounds off in his ear as small bee-like insects swarm him. If he gets a close enough look, however, he may notice they're in a somewhat odd shape as the buzzing grows louder and more disjointed.]
[It's a worn, guttural, sound of fury, distress, panicâabruptly cut off by a mouthful of petals, filling his mouth and throat. it's uselessâevery time he tries to cough them out, more seem to swirl in. he gags on the vegetation, fresh tears springing to his eyes, as he fights for voice, breath, freedom.
but... why bother fighting?
Nobody needs me.
No one even noticed I was gone.
I don't have a place to go home to.
Even now.
his body stills, the sudden lack of tension tightening several vines. that's right.
--and just as suddenly as his cry was cut, so is one of his supporting ropes. the drop, at least, and the random swinging knock some of the petals freeâbut as ever, more seem to swirl up, joining them.
still, the moment of jolt seems to spring him back to at least some senses, and he resumes the struggle, albeit considerably weaker than before]
Flayn's attention is on the chains of flowers and Asch's, dangling from them, as she tries to figure out how to sever another without her knife. Maybe if she runs fast enough, she can retrieve it - but with her attention there, she doesn't spot the violin string coming her way with enough time to dodge.
She puts her arms and her staff up to shield herself, but is knocked flat, and bites down hard on her lip to keep from crying out. Getting Asch down is the priority; she doesn't want Dimitri to try and double back to help her.
While he's dealing with the bees, she'll try to scramble back up to avoid getting caught by the grass or another swipe of that string.]
[ Unfortunately, Flayn is small, and he scarcely hears her fall when he has so many obstacles to contend with. It's hard enough to stay ahead of the bs when the grass tries to trip up his feet and petals swirl at his face, scraping by his cheeks.
He pointedly ignores it all as he charges forward, storming up the stairs with a sharp, urgent shout, noise buzzing in his ears. ]
Asch!
[ It's worse that he can't hear either of them struggle anymore—not over the 'bees,' the sound of his own footsteps thundering, the music. ]
[The strings continue to thrash, some reaching up toward Asch to slash at his legs, batting him around like a toy on a string. Others seem to tremble beneath Flayn's feet, but as she gets up again she'll notice that she's beginning to rise in the air as if on a platform, just out of Asch's reach and into a whirlwind and sharp winds and petals. The platform spirals and moves around him, the stage resetting as Asch begins to give in, and the chain twirls to hoist itself just a bit higher on his limbs.
Dimitri, meanwhile, will find that the bs are persistent little buggers, and will continue to follow him solely to block his vision and his hearing, forcing him to navigate his way across the field. The grass will try to trip him up, and a string whips him across the back. But charging forward, up the stairs, he finds himself at the edge of a very narrow and rickety catwalk, several feet from the center where Asch hangs. The spotlights move to try and catch all three of them, the lights almost harsh and angry as the music's more insistent.
And the bow leaves the body of the violin to hit the ground, continuing to severe the field and create a fault meant to divide them.]
[even as the strings scrape, slash at his legs, he can't cry outâonly puffs of petals emerge, silent and beautiful, mocking his pain. but Dimitri is nearbyâhis voice, louder. that he can still hear through everything is a blessing.
closing his eyes, he pushes with the last of his strength against the chains, lights flashing behind his lids as he does. the noose draws tighter, and he can feel twirling vines dragging his hands away. he tries to scream in frustration, but only a gentle whirl of flowers emerges. the lights blur, sliding into each other, bright as fireworksâthe final warning signs of oxygen deprivation. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to die.
Again.
...Pathetic.
his hands flex into fists, still fighting, another push, puffs of petals issuing forth as he struggles, a last, mammoth burst of energy and strength--
--and he freezes. and sags. and grows still, only the vines holding his unconscious body up.]
[Flayn is so many different levels of beyond done with this. She lets out a pained gasp as she's borne up into the whirlwind of petals, shielding her face with her arms.
...but she's just out of her reach. Which means, if she can get out of this - if she launches herself out, perhaps - she can reach him. Maybe? It's worth a try.
At any rate, Flayn has no intention of allowing herself to be separated from the other two. So, gritting her teeth, she musters all the strength she has and yeets herself off the platform and toward Asch with the intention of ripping those flower chains off herself if she has to.]
[ Now that he's up here, looking down, he can see everything between gaps in the bs—the final puff of petals from Asch's mouth before he goes still, and Flayn as she braces herself to jump— ]
Flayn, don't—!
[ —be reckless? Too late, for both of them. He can't even blame her, adrenaline helping him forget the bleeding rut down his back and bs swarming his vision, practically crawling in his ears when he skims he finds the first board of the catwalk with his foot.
Then, he steps back a bit, and just—charges it. He has a spear, he'll vault himself over there if he has to. Group strategy is apparently: yeet ]
[There's a lot happening here and it's solely because the fire emblems decided to yeet. As Flayn charges from one end and Dimitri charges from the other, they'll end up vaulting and colliding as a group. Flayn's hand gains purchase enough to rip the chains, the tip of Dimitri's spear severing a strand and as the flowers are cut from Asch's throat, all three of them fall straight down toward the violent violin.
The strings lash and wave to throw them off, an attempt to cut them off and hold them down. But at the very center where the strings are usually held together there's a large, red eye watching them and seemingly the force giving the violin life. The wind picks up, and the voices reminding Asch of the life he lost can be heard by Flayn and Dimitri more clearly now as the bs begin to swarm the three of them. The bow of the violin continues to saw the setting, and the bs will sting if they get too close.
So how does one stop a monstrous violin? Do they even have the will to do so?]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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"You do it then." [A small, clumsily-made chain of flowers is pushed into the girl's hands as the boy folds his arms over his chest, glaring at the flowers themselves. The grass beneath Asch, Flayn and Dimitri begins to gently brush over their shoes, swaying in the wind and the light focuses on the girl and on Asch. She scowls at the boy, hands quickly fixing the mess he's made to create a solid chain of flowers.]
"See? Like this. They have to be strong."
no subject
a backsurge of lonliness, longing, yearning for a simpler time rushes into Dimitri and Flayn, drowning the worry with the memory of a love so simple, straightforward, and pure, that he just can't look away, even with the knowledge it's a trick, a trap laid just for him.
he's never been good at avoiding his feelings.
Asch steps forward again, towards the duo in the soft grass, knowing just what she'll do with the chain next. his voice, a strained whisper, says her name like a prayer.]
Natalia.
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All of them know it's a trap, but - aren't they already ensnared in it? She lets go of his sleeve, but the longing lingers for a few seconds, and despite herself, she takes a few steps after him.
She should grab his arm and pull him away, she knows -
But she can't.]
no subject
Maybe both. It's enough that his heart aches after it, his hand tightening on Asch's forearm. He knows he has to let go—there's no way he can run them all off while Asch's feelings bleed into him—but for a moment his heart sways for longer than his mind does.
He at least tries to dig his heels in, but he's not stepping back. His voice loses some of its conviction. ]
...We can't stay, Asch.
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"Ready to try again?" [There's kindness in her eyes and her expression, attention focused on Asch for the moment as the chain rests against her palms, almost swaying tantalizingly in the breeze.] "Don't get frustrated."
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it's happiness. it's contentment. it's everything he wants, ever wanted, everything he can never have. he can't look away.
Asch nods, completely fixatedâand smiles.]
Yes.
Show me.
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[...it's no use, is it? Flayn's voice is low and urgent. There is something terribly wrong here - this memory, because it has to be a memory (or at least be born from one), seems so pleasant, but she remembers the last time she was in a place she thought she remembered.
She grips her staff tightly. If this does turn nasty - she's just going to do her best to defend them, if she can't snap him out of it.]
no subject
It's the flutes and the sound of Flayn's voice that reminds him of the strangeness of the situation. He pulls Asch back, even just a little, before he finally manages to let go. He grabs for the spear at his back, but the lingering haze of gentle emotion saps at any urgency.
Why was he worried about someone like Natalia, again...? ]
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The blossoms take on a more-pinkish hue as they begin to gather into little strands, winding their way around Asch's waist and soon around his throat.
Perhaps...perhaps, maybe, Dimitri should have continued to hold on. Perhaps Flayn should have tried to steer them in another direction. But as Dimitri grabs his spear and Flayn holds her staff, the lights flood a dusty shade of red to wash over the scene and the piano and wind instruments give way to something else.
Asch is yanked by the neck up, up, and up above them as the edges of the field grow darker. Looking up, they may even spot what appears to be a set of rafters, like what one would find on a stage. The flowers begin to bind Asch tightly as the boy, Luke, takes Natalia's hand and begins to pull her away.
There's no need for them to stay when they have each other, after all.
As the chains of flowers hoist Asch higher, he'll find himself dangling above what appears to be a large, flat violin as the field splits apart and begins to crumble. The strings rise and snap, and as they escape their confines of the violin's body they whip straight for Flayn and Dimitri, sharp metal wires aiming for a strike.]
no subject
wasn't it?
but as he's pulled up, the chain tightening, the scent all but choking him, he sees his mistake. it hadn't been a memory. the one running with her, pulling her away from him isn't his childhood self.
it's the replica.
he screams, struggling against his restraints, the fury, betrayal, and aching loss of his cry carrying throughout.]
NATALIA!
[he grapples wildly, strength surging with adrenaline, for his sword to cut himself free, even as the flowers pull him in. he can't stop. not here. not now.]
no subject
[There's no time. Poised as she is to smack something - or someone. Natalia? Luke? - with her staff as she is, she isn't quick enough to let go with one of her hands to try and grab him - and before she can do anything about it, the chain of flowers is pulling him up and away, out of their reach.
Oh, hell.
He's suspended from - something. Rafters. There must be a way up. She surges forward, intent on seeking it out, and catches the glint of violin strings just in time to throw herself out of their way. It's surprisingly graceful - she's able to use the momentum as she lands to pivot on her foot and continue moving onward, and it almost looks like a dance move.
(Maybe winning the White Heron Cup was good for something after all. She's felt lighter on her feet since then.)]
Dimitri - we need to get him down from there!
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His mind fills with curses as he swings around at the noise and Flayn's voice; the ground crumbles under his foot, and the wire clips his shoulder before he corrects himself and rolls out of its path, crouched with his spear drawn at his side.
What the hell was that? ]
Run! I'm right behind you!
[ He can try to cover her, but first, they need to figure out where they're even going. He scans his eyes over the rafters, looking for anything—a catwalk, ropes, a ladder, anything. ]
no subject
"Leave. We found a better one. You're no longer needed here."
[As Dimitri and Flayn scour the ground, the grass begins to twist at their feet to try and hold them in place. The strings writhe and snap, and the bow of a violin falls from the side like a loose wooden beam. If they think to check, there's a catwalk, and a few bags of sand tied to ropes used to change the backdrops of the stage. They may have to look for a ladder, but they'll have to dodge and fight their way past the instrument and the grass first.
Oh. And do mind the petals that begin to whirl past them quickly. They're sharp enough to sting now, a glint of red on each one.]
no subject
NO! NO!
[struggling is getting harder, the vines wrap him tighter, petals cutting against his cheeks, blood and tears mixing together and stinging the wounds.]
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She's trying to run - trying to make her way forward, past the instrument and its strings, to the catwalk - but the grass is twisting under their feet, and she nearly stumbles as it winds itself around her ankles.
With a hiss, she reaches into the pack she's brought with her, grips a knife, and slices the grass to free herself. She's off again in an instant, her eyes on the instrument's strings, and as she gets within range she looks up at Asch and the chains of flowers suspending him.
Gritting her teeth, she tries to position herself at an angle where they flowers are as aligned as she can get them, grips her knife just the way she's been taught to, and hurls it upward, aiming to sever the flowers with the blade to free him.
(Niji rolled a natural 20 for me, so at the very least she won't stab him in the gut or something.)]
no subject
He slices at the grass growing over his feet, moving briskly to avoid getting stuck as he searches for the start of the catwalk—if they can't find the ladder up, one of them might have to climb the ropes, but with these strings around...
He grits his teeth and ignores the petals flaring up around him as he looks for the neck of the instrument, running ahead of Flayn to try and divert the attention of the whipping strings and bow to afford her an opening. ]
no subject
"Leave us alone." [The wind says, gently, almost like a song.] "We don't need a reject anymore."
[Flayn cuts through the grass and runs, flinging her knife and severing one of the chains holding Asch up. He finds himself swinging from the rafters, almost like a pendulum as the music continues to play. Another violin string snaps and if she's not careful, it will strike her across the front to knock her flat. The spotlights focus on Dimitri now as he runs, and as he books it through the field he'll spot stairs in the far corner just out of sight. Backstage, if you will. But he'll have to move fast: a loud, angry buzzing sounds off in his ear as small bee-like insects swarm him. If he gets a close enough look, however, he may notice they're in a somewhat odd shape as the buzzing grows louder and more disjointed.]
no subject
[It's a worn, guttural, sound of fury, distress, panicâabruptly cut off by a mouthful of petals, filling his mouth and throat. it's uselessâevery time he tries to cough them out, more seem to swirl in. he gags on the vegetation, fresh tears springing to his eyes, as he fights for voice, breath, freedom.
but... why bother fighting?
Nobody needs me.
No one even noticed I was gone.
I don't have a place to go home to.
Even now.
his body stills, the sudden lack of tension tightening several vines. that's right.
--and just as suddenly as his cry was cut, so is one of his supporting ropes. the drop, at least, and the random swinging knock some of the petals freeâbut as ever, more seem to swirl up, joining them.
still, the moment of jolt seems to spring him back to at least some senses, and he resumes the struggle, albeit considerably weaker than before]
no subject
[Well.
Flayn's attention is on the chains of flowers and Asch's, dangling from them, as she tries to figure out how to sever another without her knife. Maybe if she runs fast enough, she can retrieve it - but with her attention there, she doesn't spot the violin string coming her way with enough time to dodge.
She puts her arms and her staff up to shield herself, but is knocked flat, and bites down hard on her lip to keep from crying out. Getting Asch down is the priority; she doesn't want Dimitri to try and double back to help her.
While he's dealing with the bees, she'll try to scramble back up to avoid getting caught by the grass or another swipe of that string.]
no subject
He pointedly ignores it all as he charges forward, storming up the stairs with a sharp, urgent shout, noise buzzing in his ears. ]
Asch!
[ It's worse that he can't hear either of them struggle anymore—not over the 'bees,' the sound of his own footsteps thundering, the music. ]
no subject
Dimitri, meanwhile, will find that the bs are persistent little buggers, and will continue to follow him solely to block his vision and his hearing, forcing him to navigate his way across the field. The grass will try to trip him up, and a string whips him across the back. But charging forward, up the stairs, he finds himself at the edge of a very narrow and rickety catwalk, several feet from the center where Asch hangs. The spotlights move to try and catch all three of them, the lights almost harsh and angry as the music's more insistent.
And the bow leaves the body of the violin to hit the ground, continuing to severe the field and create a fault meant to divide them.]
no subject
closing his eyes, he pushes with the last of his strength against the chains, lights flashing behind his lids as he does. the noose draws tighter, and he can feel twirling vines dragging his hands away. he tries to scream in frustration, but only a gentle whirl of flowers emerges. the lights blur, sliding into each other, bright as fireworksâthe final warning signs of oxygen deprivation. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to die.
Again.
...Pathetic.
his hands flex into fists, still fighting, another push, puffs of petals issuing forth as he struggles, a last, mammoth burst of energy and strength--
--and he freezes. and sags. and grows still, only the vines holding his unconscious body up.]
no subject
[Flayn is so many different levels of beyond done with this. She lets out a pained gasp as she's borne up into the whirlwind of petals, shielding her face with her arms.
...but she's just out of her reach. Which means, if she can get out of this - if she launches herself out, perhaps - she can reach him. Maybe? It's worth a try.
At any rate, Flayn has no intention of allowing herself to be separated from the other two. So, gritting her teeth, she musters all the strength she has and yeets herself off the platform and toward Asch with the intention of ripping those flower chains off herself if she has to.]
no subject
Flayn, don't—!
[ —be reckless? Too late, for both of them. He can't even blame her, adrenaline helping him forget the bleeding rut down his back and bs swarming his vision, practically crawling in his ears when he skims he finds the first board of the catwalk with his foot.
Then, he steps back a bit, and just—charges it. He has a spear, he'll vault himself over there if he has to. Group strategy is apparently: yeet ]
no subject
The strings lash and wave to throw them off, an attempt to cut them off and hold them down. But at the very center where the strings are usually held together there's a large, red eye watching them and seemingly the force giving the violin life. The wind picks up, and the voices reminding Asch of the life he lost can be heard by Flayn and Dimitri more clearly now as the bs begin to swarm the three of them. The bow of the violin continues to saw the setting, and the bs will sting if they get too close.
So how does one stop a monstrous violin? Do they even have the will to do so?]
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