[B]Shuai Taidan - Sticky Situation[/B]

"[color=ce2029]Gotcha.[/color]"

What was a semblance? The obvious, textbook answer to such a question would be the manifestation of one's aura, an unique power that was fuelled by the energies of one's very soul. A perfectly accurate and usable definition, but to simply explain the phenomena in such a ... drab and utilitarian manner ... was quite disappointing, especially when there was far more to it. After all, a semblance was a projection of the soul upon the physical world ... or as Taidan saw it, the imposition of one's identity upon reality.

It was the ability to affirm one's sense of self in a world that cared naught for it.

It was to take everything that made somebody a person and shape it into power.

And through that power, they would tell the world that they exist.

That they [b]are[/b].

Time slowed. He could feel the conduits within him come to life. He could feel the burning of his blood, the cycling of energy through his body, the beating of his heart as his aura flowed, the liquid fire of his soul bringing his semblance, his six divine arms, into action. He could feel it all. The emergence of his identity into the world.

The [i]Santouliubi[/i].

Taidan didn't move a single inch.

He didn't need to.

His ethereal arms, once wisps, echoes of his soul ... they became corporeal.

And they struck.

Two of the aura arms twisted around the attacking talons of the Nevermore, bringing their force to bear against the descent of the flying Grimm and stopping them from striking against Taidan. The hands gripped tightly against clawed feet, stalling the bird's fall and forcing the whiplash back into its body. Another pair of arms instead struck at the wings, each one grabbing harshly at the black limbs to stop them from moving or launching any further waves of deadly feathers.

And the last two moved to pull apart the Nevermore's beak, opening its mouth wide ...

In order for Taidan to spear the [i]Huojian[/i] into its mouth and launch a stream of burning hot napalm down its gullet.

---

[b]Gratia Mindaro - Zephyr City[/b]

"[color=66cd00]My use of tabletop nomenclature was adequate, Venetia,[/color]" she replied, shooting a quick glance at her team leader's expression. It was so utterly futile of the noblewoman to hide the annoyance and irritation; the artificially calm face was always there when Venetia found offense in any of their actions. It was too obvious.

And it did not matter to Gratia Mindaro one single bit if her leader knew nothing of the typical bank's closing hours or if the other girl was simply blind.

"[color=66cd00]I do hope your shitty noblewoman swagger can be toned down, then,[/color]" said the Mistralese huntress, "[color=66cd00]because even fucking Fiordilatte over here is better at bullshit than what you've got.[/color]"