[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/adb01259-53a5-4c37-8dd0-07d9259d9823.png[/img][/center]

Chopstick Eyes did her very best to wade through the deeper parts of the throne room lake, swishing her arms through the water in search and trying her very best to blot out the sounds of burning, yelling and slithering as she did so. It was a bold attempt, for her part, and perhaps the only movement she'd managed so far that had not involved scuttling in fright. She dipped her head below the water to listen for the creaking of the wood inside her skull, hoping to echolocate something smooth, broad and metal.

When she came up, she... Did not come up. Kicking up and backwards with a jerk of panic, Chopstick found that either she had drifted away much deeper than she had intended, or the water was rapidly rising. Breaching the surface with a shake of the head and treading water, she realised that the water had indeed risen, but caught in the lowermost reaches of yet another goddess of the titanic variety, that seemed to be the least of her troubles.

[color=wheat]"Th-th... Thank you!"[/color] she spluttered, paddling within reach of the trusty meat-partitioner, a little humiliated but having no obvious means of recourse while splashing around like a dog in the watery base of an elemental lord. But she meant it. [color=wheat]"Thank you, Ashalla."[/color]

Chopstick bowed as soon as her legs could reach the bottom. As her skewers touched the surface of the water, she saw the ripples below her face grow suddenly much darker all over, caught as it was- as she damn well knew it was, divine sense or no- in the shadow of yet another colossus. A second later, she could smell him.

Still facing the water, Chopstick clenched her teeth in the fakest smile and went [i]hgrrrnnnrrnnnnnrnnnn,[/i] and only then permitted herself to sigh.

Standing up to face Narzhak armed with nothing but an oversized vegetable sectioner, Chopstick rested her cleaver on her shoulder, uncrossed her other two arms, stared him dead in the visor and raised her tiny knuckles as if to promise swift and unrepentant fisticuffs.

[hider=fite me]
Choppy looks for her cleaver in the water and soon realises that the water is Ashalla, whom she awkwardly thanks for her cleaver.

Then, having in the span of about five minutes gone from helpless newborn to helpless jaded motherfucker, she stares down Narzhak and waits for the inevitable next act in the shitshow that is her life.

[b]5 Might (Native)
20 Might (Age of Creation)[/b]
[/hider]