[center][h2][color=0095FF][u][i][b]/Grant Rotem\[/b][/i][/u][/color][/h2]

[img]http://i66.tinypic.com/dyqee0.png[/img][/center]


Surrounded, all around his team. Wiping a bit of dirt from his face, Grant gulped down the lump in his throat, almost feeling dry. Discomfort. From this situation, and from the enemies closing in. His teammate’s shout and rage, the desperation. He shook his head, his teammates continuing their detached attacks on the surrounding Metalworks.

Random shouting, minions attacking, a sweeping attack from the emotionless girl. How was he supposed to get an attack in without getting in the way of any of this? It was almost frustrating. The fact how the whole team was acting as a mess. He was looking for an opening among the group of attacks. Waiting…

And he eventually figured, waiting for Hazel’s attack to end would be preferable. Once it had, he’d step toward the Arachnid Metalworks that were still standing, away from the other attacks, hoping, and he dug his chains back into the ground, but instead closer to the enemies. Wider apart from each other. Deep breath. He started to pull a wide wall up from the earth. Pressure pushing down on him, harder than his usual projectile pull. Grunts and struggling noises came from his clenched teeth, his brows tensing toward one another. Raising the earth as much as he could, and before he could get too carried away, he let the raised earth tilt forward.

Relief flooded through his senses as his chains released the earth, letting it fall and crash down on the ensuing Arachnid Metalworks like a wave. Grant stopped himself from just giving out and collapsing, planting his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, his eyes clenched shut.