Maggie dropped a skeleton; correction, several skeletons, as she dropped a large skeleton onto his skull into a crowd via a Full Nelson that transitioned into a German Suplex from a standing leap that made the entire thing a really confusing, yet sick hype flying Tombstone Piledriver with the impact zone of a Moonsault. Jumping up, she looped her jawbone around the neck of a skeleton, and jump, going prone, and brought them to a crashing halt out of nowhere. It was only when the skeleton army's more than feeble attempts to scratch and claw and actual break her -- both in flesh and morale -- stopped, did she noticed they had stopped, and did she take note of their pause, the cause, and his focus on her. Why? Why was he staring at her? Why was he smiling? Was he acknowledging her strength, her bloom, her brilliance...?

It felt nice.

It felt so nice, it was terrifying. Such grand acknowledgement. Such a powerful acknowledge that radiated around and away. It was so goddamn terrifying. It felt so nice, though. For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to become lost in it; to run away from it, and yet to it, as well. It terrified her -- just as her current form did. He was so strong -- stronger, still, than her. That couldn't stand. That couldn't be. If she wasn't stronger, then she would be like she always was. Alone. Scared. Weak. A pathetic nature that her maddened thought reviled, so strongly, it made her want to vomit. She wanted to be lost in his strength, his madness, his... his..

[[color=f7976a][i]Bravery.[/i][/color]] supplanted the guiding voice, the beacon in her madness, the very cause and nature of it. [[color=f7976a][i]It's his bravery, you seek, my little flower. Same as the bravery, I give; generously.[/i][/color]] The voice was different. Less creepy. Less risque. It was level, higher than her own. "[color=f26522][b]I... I do...[/b][/color]" Maggie all but asked. It wasn't a question, but acknowledgement, seeking affirmation. [[color=f7976a][i]Of course, you do.[/i][/color]] Affirmation given, tout de suite. [[color=f7976a][i]Go, Margaret. Take his bravery. Kill him.[/i][/color]] whispered the voice, coaxing her to its level. [[color=f7976a][i]Be braver, by being the only one that remains.[/i][/color]] Maggie grinned, and tensed her muscles. Suddenly, her body relaxed, and slumped forward; from behind the curtain formed of her messy bangs, madness peered back at Flamma. "[color=f26522][b]I'm going to take your jawbone, and beat your skull in.[/b][/color]" she promised, before [b]THROWING[/b] herself straight at him.

It was on like Donkey Kong.

[hr]

	Meanwhile, less than willing to gamble on his own life, the Assassin-keeper stepped outside; teleported, as far as most eyes were concerned, but, nevertheless. However, he didn't retreat; tactical repositioning, is all. Besides, he was more interested in the one that was thrown outside than leaving. From his vantage point, he'd watched the scene unfold, and play out. He had accessed most of the Classes in play; roughly judging from their weapons, appearances, and behaviors. Makoto had hung back, and then suddenly a pillar impaled the new threat. That bespoke of one thing: "[b][color=a187be]Caster, judging from the garish attire and that little trick of magecraft,[/color][/b]" he surmised with a casual callousness, standing behind Makoto, "[color=a187be][b]Makoto, isn't it? Here's a question: what's your best magic trick? Don't dally answering. It might just save a lot of lives.[/b][/color]"