[center][h3][color=C0392B]Rudolf Sagramore[/color][/h3][/center]

Being effectively right in Famfrit's face after their two-pronged disarmament measure, Rudolf hardly had a moment's rest, let alone room to celebrate, as the ringing snaps of Eliane's gunfire was drowned out by the thunderous bell-tone of splitting bronze filling the chamber and his ears alike. He had hoped to only serve as a stopper for the flood of projectiles with that Shield, but damaging the urn with the rebound of its own attack was even better—

And yet, as a fetid, putrescent[sup]1[/sup] mist began to swirl around the enraged golem, their success brought little comfort.

[i][b]"-DEVOURING DARKNESS. VOID UNENDING, CORRODING!"[/b][/i]

[color=c0392b][i]Okay, what the hell?![/i][/color] he demanded, stowing the spent materia and ripping his rondel free from its' neighboring home on the bandolier, splitting an orb of corroding darkness that was inches from slamming right into him. Pointedly, he didn't even think to will his own blackflame into the steel. [color=c0392b][i]Darkness, Void, Corrosion; I thought we were differentiated, me and him! What happened to that?[/i][/color]

[i]NOT the same.[/i] came the hurried retort, even as a flood of information was being delegated behind impulses and instincts, helping Rudolf thread his way through what he could of the barrage, and carve through or endure the rest[sup]2[/sup]. [i]You're going to need to trust me that these are separate and that this is markedly worse than what we do. Getting into the epistemology problem would distract you and we'd all be in a hell of a lot of trouble. Shorthand is calling it decomposition versus death itself.[/i]

Rudolf grit his teeth, wincing as he was forced to catch the brunt of a second orb along the flat of his accursed greatsword when Selene's haste faded, in time with the howling winds and coalescing stormcloud that Esben had called for. Part of him wished that maybe the corrosion of the twisted magic would have some sort of weakening effect on the curse that had been overlaid— the rest of him dashed the notion against all the good fortune he had burned already coming back to bite him in the ass. It'd sooner wreck the steel itself.

But the weight hadn't changed, and he could still move after it, the hair on his scalp standing on end as the all too familiar scent of ozone and feeling of fuzz permeated the air around him, as he leapt clear of his comarade's blade of light, charged with the divine lightning of Ramuh itself— that must have been what he was doing, Rudolf belatedly put together, when he was chatting with Cid and the Eidolon that evening before. Rudolf had caught him out of the corner of his eye, between his attempts at catching lightning.

Gods, Adrammelech had only been the evening before, hadn't it? Even getting nose flattened this morning felt like a lifetime ago by now— they'd never even given themselves enough time to [i]fix[/i] it. By the time this siege was over, Rudolf foresaw the lot of them that weren't already hanging on by a thread like Eliane to just about keeling over and dying for the next day and a half.

Something to look forward to, then...[sup]3[/sup]

His Gravity materia was somewhere on the tile behind. His Shield was spent. While Famfrit was cloaked in this aura, he was sure that whatever his pact had blunted of its corruption, it would see his flames checked in turn. He could not manage Gungnir without lance and haste both in hand, and Svalinn... honestly, he wasn't convinced he had it in him. What could he do, to drive this forward?

Truth be told, the impact of the dark magic he'd absorbed had knocked his balance loose, given that he'd been in the middle of what should have been a narrow dodge when he'd lost speed. "Getting out of the way" of Esben and Ramuh was really only in relative terms because of that— and because he was so close, he was far from clear of the stray arcs of lightning that spilled away from the SEED's blade. Most people could easily escape regardless, but...

One filament, guided by the whims of misfortune, perhaps Dhinas's anger, streaked towards a close length of grounded metal, colliding with its feathered tip as it trailed its wielder.

[i]Raiji[color=c0392b]ngeki.[/color][/i]

Who then whirled, as if automatic, and cast that comparatively meager spark into the wake of Esben's final slash, lending that extra bit more to the cause. Still far from perfect, but if there was a bright side to getting good at ignoring a growing pile of fatigue, it was that you stopped letting perfect be the enemy of workable.[sup]4[/sup]
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[*][sub]1. This is why I describe my boons as calcination. Putrefaction paints a much different picture of melanosis. Never you mind that this is still decompositive processes versus literal, actual, act of killing death.[/sub]
[*][sub]2. I'll be perfectly honest. I'm not doing terribly much, not in the way any of the barspells their Red mage chucks around does. There are enough shared elements that I can work to take the edge off of these shots, but little more than that. It's a little like being used to furnaces when you're closer than you should be to a volcano. To keep these comparisons going, think on the difference between tenebrae and smoke, cooking and charring, submersion and drowning somebody, my comical exaggerations and Rudolf's ability to lie to himself, etc. , [i]et cetera[/i].[/sub]
[*][sub]3. I love foreshadowing. Speaking of foreshadowing...[/sub]
[*][sub]4. I love foreshadowing.[/sub]
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