[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/27xik2o.png[/img][/center][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/X3HEnmq.png[/img][/center][hr][center][color=silver]𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕   / /   𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖   / /  ~𝟘𝟝𝟛𝟘[/color][/center][hr]
The first thing he heard was the sound, even before the impact splashed sand and dirt into the air where the beach met the edge of the forest. Nathaniel spun to see the lighthouse roof—top room and all—skid a short distance, shedding concrete and support beams as it gouged the ground. He surprised himself, more than anyone, by staring only a moment before whirling back around, sprinting now for the pier where the ferry floated in the strangest rendition of a holy grail yet. Orla was hot on his heels, running alongside the floating torso of Angel and lifting the height of the far end even higher, thickening the wall as she moved. Kelly sprouted more living trees, the hulking wood constructs bursting from the ground and the steaming wall itself to overwhelm the students on the other side, stepping on the burning embers of their comrades without a trace of pain. They marched mindlessly, footsteps a drumbeat to the roaring rain. 

Ian took the earth around him and raised a cutting sandstorm, the particles whirling quickly enough to nick the wood of the trees they surrounded, sending a tidal wave of moving sand over the wall to bolster the attack, replacing what sand had initially been weighed down by the rain. The particulate matter nicked and scraped at skin, lodging into clothes and orifices and moving still, vicious in their determination to rend at exposed skin like sandpaper. 

Far ahead of Nathaniel, Thi’s flesh had parted across all her limbs like shredded rags, revealing the hideous augmentations of metals and magic that propelled her forward across the wet sand at a pace faster than any human could ever achieve. She was already at the ferry by the time the lighthouse’s head landed, the decapitated building hardly fazing her. 

She would have left without them, too, Nathaniel knew, if he wasn’t the one carrying their trophy. The orb pulsed violently over his shoulder as he ran, flattening the earth in front of him to make movement easier and manipulating his legs even when they tired quickly of the breakneck speed. Orla raised the barricades behind them, too, fencing out any potential pursuers.

Flashes of fire from the dragon in the sky burned another wave of trees that stumbled forward a moment longer before crumbling to ashes, but more and more came, their numbers absurd, like a colony of ants. Zoe’s rot held them at bay, spreading like lightning except where the dragon’s fire burned too quickly for the infection to spread further. Around the students the trees melted to sludge, black ichor where they once stood, their endless progress kept at bay only by the sheer monstrosity of the powers they faced. And still more came, dying as quickly as they appeared, but the rate of creation and decay zeroed out and not in the students’ favor.

The wounded shadow beast recovered from the shock of the lighthouse attack first, clawing at the bright-haired girl on the ground nearby, the first swipe lacerating the backs of both forearms to the muscle and slicing deep into Callan’s legs. Misery, however, would not be budged so easily without its owner’s control, the monster weapon both subservient and defiant to its creator’s will in its own inexplicable ways. As Rhohan swung again, aiming to rip the wounded superhuman girl into pieces, a flash of an intangible, purple blade struck his leg. 

There was no pain at first, only a dampening of energy, as if a switch somewhere had been turned off. Then the monster form shuddered and flickered, dispersing in a rising stream of jagged lines. The axe followed gravity, biting into a human, cutting clean through the upper half of the young man’s body. A heavyset man with dark skin and curly brown hair already soaked in the rain stared at Callan in his last moments, amber eyes wide in death and jaw slack in surprise as he struggled to understand what had happened.

But death waits for neither epiphany nor last words and the focus dimmed from his eyes seconds later, his severed torso spilling blood freely into the rain-soaked dirt.

[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img][/center][hr]
[hider=OOC Notes]
A week deadline. As usual, for any questions refer to the GMs. 

Sandstorm is raging at almost max power so visibility is going to be at an all time low. It also smarts. A lot.

Tree army is barely held at bay by Zoe and Kusari’s combined efforts but it is clear that the lighthouse will be overrun soon.

[/hider]