[...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?]
[luckily, an unconscious body is actually the best way to take an impact, as it does not brace against a fall at all, causing considerably less damage when they drop!
however, flayn and dimitri definitely land in some part on top of of him, so. you're welcome for the cushioning. he's probably fine. i mean, he's probably fine once he's not unconscious anymore and slowly dying from lack of oxygen.
wherever skin can be seen, asch's corpsebody is a mess of broken blood vessels from the flower chain's constrictionsâangry red lines of first-stage bruising trace around his throat and wrists, face still wet from the bloodied flower cuts and tears. oh, and his mouth is just absolutely chock with petalsâwhich, combined with the choking thing, makes it pretty clear what the issue is, here.]
[The nice part about Asch being unconscious is there's no emotionshare backlash because he can't feel anything!
Though, ouch, that collision does kind of hurt. Flayn makes a small, pained noise as they hit the ground (stupid flowers. stupid violin strings. stupid bs.) but tries to sit up quickly, because they're definitely not out of danger yet. She grabs Asch by the shoulder and shakes him, but -
Nope, nothing.
...the petals in his mouth are concerning, though. She makes a face, then eases his lips open so she can... dig the petals out... and clear his airways...]
[ Well, glad that their strategy of literally throwing themselves at the problem kind of worked. There's a second where they all land as a collective heap though, broken vines dangling above them.
Dimitri rolls off and away from the other two with a cough, shaking his head to get his bearings as the whisper of voices and the buzz of the bs picks up, the scraping of the bow in the background. It's a mess. Flayn is already handling reviving Asch, so he'll leave that to the healer of the party as he strikes one of the lashing strings, batting it away from the two of them with his spear as he squints towards the source of the whips.
There's no way they're breaking apart the violin itself, so that just leaves this... big, creepy eyeball. Looks fleshy enough. Another wire lashes at his leg as he approaches, his knee buckling with a grimace.
But a violin only has so many strings, right? So he's working his way towards the eye, catching a wire around his lance with a flourish and twisting, trying to tangle it down. ]
[Flayn can start to clear out the flowers, soft and almost a blood red now. It's gross? But please let Asch breathe...the strings seem to focus on Dimitri for the time being as he's the one actively attacking them, the body of the violin trembling in time with the music they're hearing.
The eyeball seems to watch them closely, turning and rotating to face the three of them. The wires whip and attempt to pull the lance out of Dimitri's hand, but the twist seems to work to throw them off. The bs flock to the bloody, wet mass of flowers and surround Flayn as she works, attempting to sting at her hands.
Perhaps this is enough to awaken Asch...but it seems as though they'll need to work quickly. Though Dimitri is able to throw them off, the strings won't stay down for long.]
[well, his air passages are clear, at least? but he's still not breathing or moving. if Flayn feels for a pulse, though, it's definitely thereânot weakening as of yet, so blood is still moving through! just.
the oxygen problem, really.
his sword is at his side, though, so if someone needs that to cut up some bs, it is AVAILABLE]
[Flayn swats at the bees as they sting at her hands, but she's more focused on clearing the flowers from Asch's mouth and throat than she really is at keeping herself from being stung. So, that's happening. She grits her teeth and just powers through it - she can deal with the stings. It won't kill her.
(Probably.)
But if Asch doesn't start breathing soon, it might kill him. She checks his pulse, puts a hand to his chest to see if he's taking any air at all (flinches when she gets stung, but she'll deal with that later), and then takes a breath.
As I stated in our group chat, I hate all of you for this.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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.]
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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.]
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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.]
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[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. ]
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"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.]
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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.)]
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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. ]
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"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.]
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[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]
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[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.]
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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. ]
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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.]
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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.]
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[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.]
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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 ]
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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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however, flayn and dimitri definitely land in some part on top of of him, so. you're welcome for the cushioning. he's probably fine. i mean, he's probably fine once he's not unconscious anymore and slowly dying from lack of oxygen.
wherever skin can be seen, asch's
corpsebody is a mess of broken blood vessels from the flower chain's constrictionsâangry red lines of first-stage bruising trace around his throat and wrists, face still wet from the bloodied flower cuts and tears. oh, and his mouth is just absolutely chock with petalsâwhich, combined with the choking thing, makes it pretty clear what the issue is, here.]no subject
Though, ouch, that collision does kind of hurt. Flayn makes a small, pained noise as they hit the ground (stupid flowers. stupid violin strings. stupid bs.) but tries to sit up quickly, because they're definitely not out of danger yet. She grabs Asch by the shoulder and shakes him, but -
Nope, nothing.
...the petals in his mouth are concerning, though. She makes a face, then eases his lips open so she can... dig the petals out... and clear his airways...]
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Dimitri rolls off and away from the other two with a cough, shaking his head to get his bearings as the whisper of voices and the buzz of the bs picks up, the scraping of the bow in the background. It's a mess. Flayn is already handling reviving Asch, so he'll leave that to the healer of the party as he strikes one of the lashing strings, batting it away from the two of them with his spear as he squints towards the source of the whips.
There's no way they're breaking apart the violin itself, so that just leaves this... big, creepy eyeball. Looks fleshy enough. Another wire lashes at his leg as he approaches, his knee buckling with a grimace.
But a violin only has so many strings, right? So he's working his way towards the eye, catching a wire around his lance with a flourish and twisting, trying to tangle it down. ]
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The eyeball seems to watch them closely, turning and rotating to face the three of them. The wires whip and attempt to pull the lance out of Dimitri's hand, but the twist seems to work to throw them off. The bs flock to the bloody, wet mass of flowers and surround Flayn as she works, attempting to sting at her hands.
Perhaps this is enough to awaken Asch...but it seems as though they'll need to work quickly. Though Dimitri is able to throw them off, the strings won't stay down for long.]
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the oxygen problem, really.
his sword is at his side, though, so if someone needs that to cut up some bs, it is AVAILABLE]
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(Probably.)
But if Asch doesn't start breathing soon, it might kill him. She checks his pulse, puts a hand to his chest to see if he's taking any air at all (flinches when she gets stung, but she'll deal with that later), and then takes a breath.
As I stated in our group chat, I hate all of you for this.
She leans down to give him CPR.]
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