[h1][u]Ciara Ventura[/u][/h1]
[i][color=gray]Acendia, Room 103 Fountain[/color][/i]
[@Nanaya]
[hr]

She saw that glint. She saw it, and she didn't like it.

[b][i]“Brave, truly. But it takes more than that to break my defenses, Ciara.”[/i][/b]

Ciara clicked her tongue, trying to press harder against his barrier, feeling the weight of the force pressing back.

[b]“I'll show you brave, professor.”[/b]

She watched the exchange between Iraleth and the professor, cursing under her breath, about to act-

When-

[b][i]“And now you're both here with me.”[/i][/b]

[b]”Wha-”[/b]

Before Ciara had time to react, a prison of thorns and vines encased them, surrounding them. Was this really the power the professor held in this place?

In the muted darkness of the thorny prison, she could hear shuffling. [i]Something[/i] was coming. On instinct, she sent out shadowy feelers to act as her eyes, and felt it when the thorns shot towards her from all sides.

[b][i]“Give it your all, ahaha!”[/i][/b]

Ciara grit her teeth.

[b]”Fames.”[/b]

As the thorns approached with their spear tips, tendrils of darkness wrapped around the shafts of each, circling before pulling tight, shredding each into harmless plant matter that merely scratched Ciara’s barrier.

A huff as Ciara stood there, the adrenaline of a split-second save rushing through her veins.

[i]Ciara, strike with intent, but leaving the top of the dome unguarded by your shadows.[/i]

If it wasn't pitch black before, save Iraleth’s glow, it was pitch black now. A small smile split Ciara's features, shadows writhing all around her. She could [i]feel[/i] it. The overwhelming darkness, the unification of her shadow with this entire space. It was just [i]her[/i], and she was [i]everywhere.[/i] She could feel the two separate domes surrounding them, the upturned soil versus the thorns, the texture of Iraleth’s metal boots versus the professor’s leather. The minute details, an extension of her.

And she loved it.

[i]Strike with intent.[/i]

[i]”It'll be my pleasure,”[/i] she thought across the mental web, and coiled her body, ready to attack.

Tendrils of darkness shot out, wrapping around the professor’s neck and ankles from a myriad of angles. With vice-like grip, they pulled, aiming to roughly yank the professor like a doll to the right.

At the same time, darkness coated the blade Ciara held. She stepped forward, elongated edge cutting through the vines as she spun the blade around from the left, cutting at an angle aimed towards the professor’s abdomen. She spun, cut once, then spun again, and cut again, the darkness’ razor edge impacting the PB.

So there were two forces at play - the shadowy tendrils pulling the professor into the embrace of the sword, and the sword slicing against the PB with explosive intent. She pulled the sword back once more, and sent forward a single jab, trying to run the professor clean through the abdomen.

Then, she took a step back, and the tendrils holding the professor grew, aiming to wrap his limbs and torso, to suffocate him.

And then for good measure, she struck again with the darkened blade. And again, and again, and again.

Her eyes were alight with hungry, hungry focus, keen to see the professor’s barrier break.