Baklava

:: BAҞLAVA'S ARŦ Sħ㊉P :: 0/5 ｓｌｏｔｓ ｏｐｅｎ :: temporarily closed~

@shylarah Hey! No arguments here! I'm more than happy to draw for full price~ mwahahaha~



(but also thanks for calling my art pretty aerlkghblaerbgh)

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Rhohan a la carte

(To go, please.)

Sander | Callan

𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 / / ~𝟘𝟝𝟛𝟘
_{Collab with @RedDusk and @Baklava}

With his enemy bisected and bleeding beneath him, Sander did not hesitate, especially when his gaping gut wound took far longer to heal that he would like. Leaning forward, he bit cleanly into the exposed neck, slurping down the still-warm blood that oozed out. The other Aberration was already dead, so his blood had lost much of its potency, but Sander would make do. He could not waste the strength. It barely took a minute for the corpse to run dry; Sander’s power had soaked up even the pooling blood on the forest floor. Rejuvenated, the blood mage rose to his feet, maimed body forgotten at his feet. His armor was falling to pieces as well, so he took it off, letting the fragments slowly absorbed back into his skin.

Then his eyes fell on Callan's battered body. His breaths hitched as he leaned down, pressing a feather-light touch to her shoulder. There was just simply too much blood. He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t dare.

“C-Callan?”

Fear spurred the pounding in Callan's chest as she watched the razor sharp claws of her enemy rise to strike. Enduring a fate similar to Sander... she wasn't so sure she was capable of fighting through it like the vampire aberration had managed to do. Amethyst eyes still wet with reluctant tears widened as Allison's blade made contact and her own axe fell. Through racing thoughts, adrenaline, and distressed nerves, a single question flooded her mind.

Why?

Callan stared down at the remarkably human looking "monster" just before the sandstorm forced her to shield her eyes and turn away on reflex. The lifeless eyes and stark black X, glistening with rain, was burned into her memory, however. Just face for her to add to the collection she'd so far accrued. Why did it have to be this way? Why were they attacking? Why couldn't they be on the same side? Why was this so infuriating?

She shivered as the pain of her wounds brought her back to the now. They needed to get out of here before anyone else showed up. Hissing through her teeth as the sandstorm seemed to exacerbate the gashes, she barely managed to make out the figure of Sander crouched over their enemy's corpse. She grimaced at the sight. Waste not want not, she supposed.

Pushing herself further off the ground with her arms, the stress pumping through her veins propelled her to try and stand. The pain was almost worse than the sensation of feeling her own detached and raw flesh move against itself as the severed muscles failed to function in sync with one another.

"Agh!" she exclaimed, falling back into a sitting position immediately. Sander's touch might've gone unnoticed if he hadn't spoken. She released a shaky breath, amethyst eyes locking with two glowing red irises before falling to the closing hole in Sander's chest. The reminder of how effective Sander's self healing was provided its own small bit of relief in the midst of the ongoing chaos.

"Hey, Sandy," she forced a weakly reassuring smiled when she noticed his gaze tracing her injuries, "We-- ngh-- we gotta get outta here. C-can you get Hazel and I to a healer? I can't...." She looked down at her legs, seeping blood into the mud at an alarming rate.

The mention of Hazel's name caused Sander to lift his gaze and glanced toward where Lawrence was crouching over her, ripped cloth stemming the flow of blood. Having just drank quite a bit, Sander didn't fully trust himself with the task, but he also knew the stakes; just from the thickness of the scents alone, he knew that he had to get both of them back to safety, and fast. His throat tightened, suddenly too dry and his heart thudded in anticipation. The fire was waiting for a single lapse in his concentration, the traitorous thing. He would not let it stop him this time.

"Okay." -Sander nodded, because he thought he should -"Alright."

Leaning toward, he took both of Callan's arms and wrapped them around his neck, urging her silently to hold on while his other arm reached around to support her lower back. She held on tightly, wincing throughout the motion.

Callan had meant to thank him, but with every pulse her strength felt like it beginning to dwindle, her breathing, more labored, and her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. All that escaped her instead was a restrained groan. Bleeding again-- why couldn't she be better than this? Sleep was beginning to sound like a fair idea. A dark, still, quiet where nothing burned and the looming stress of death overcoming not only herself, but everyone else would be a muffled thought. But she held on, willing herself to remain conscious, though completely missing the thin black thread that moved towards her and Sander through the raging sands. The wounds faded, though some fatigue lingered.

"Lily," Callan said, loosening her grip around Sander's neck and letting her feet plant themselves on the ground. She turned to try and see Hazel. Visibility was too low and she and Lawrence were too far, but it was probably a safe bet Lily had healed Hazel, too. Now to figure out their next course of action. The top of the lighthouse was almost completely lost from her sight. No sign of Angelique. No ferry. No vehicles. How were they going to get out of here?

"Pull back. We're retreating back to the tunnels." Ernie's voice buzzed through the cuff, just audible over the augmented storm.

She'd take it.

"Sander, help me make sure everybody gets back inside the lighthouse. Time to go!" Callan shouted, running towards Hazel and Lawrence.

Sander simply looked at Callan as her skin knitted together and her wounds close, his nostrils flared slightly to catch any scent that could contradict the healing. There was none. Callan was fully healed. As well as Lawrence and Hazel. Quickly, Sander took a few steps back now that Callan could stand by herself, giving her some space. When their order came from Ernie through the cuff, Sander raised his eyebrows, clearly confused. Weren't they to get out of here? Wouldn't retreating defeat that purpose? He turned, narrowed eyes stared off into the distance while his senses worked. The sand storm beat harmlessly against his skin, but its rage paled when compared to his own. What it did though, was obscuring his vision, making him rely on his blood sense.

When Callan finally decided for herself and ran off, Sander gave her back a silent nod before dashing off on his own as well, heading toward the scents of Zoe and Kusari. Theirs were the closest.

:: BAҞLAVA'S ARŦ Sħ㊉P :: 0/5 ｓｌｏｔｓ ｏｐｅｎ :: temporarily closed~

@DearTrickster LMAO. For a minute there I thought you might be commissioning me to draw some twilight fanart and my brain went "FUCK!"

Yes, ofc. Just shoot me a PM with the details and your paypal email so I can send you an invoice.

:: BAҞLAVA'S ARŦ Sħ㊉P :: 0/5 ｓｌｏｔｓ ｏｐｅｎ :: temporarily closed~

Hereby offering a 50% discount for the first 2 guild members to come at me with the following pass code:

Your prices are too high. Give me a freakin' discount, Bak. Also, Twilight is my favorite movie.

(3 piece limit, if you want to order multiple works at once)

---

Update:
ONLY ONE LEFT.

:: BAҞLAVA'S ARŦ Sħ㊉P :: 0/5 ｓｌｏｔｓ ｏｐｅｎ :: temporarily closed~

Made a wee price adjustment~

:: BAҞLAVA'S ARŦ Sħ㊉P :: 0/5 ｓｌｏｔｓ ｏｐｅｎ :: temporarily closed~

@POOHEAD189 Heyy! Thanks-- that'd be great! Yeah, just let me know!

:: BAҞLAVA'S ARŦ Sħ㊉P :: 0/5 ｓｌｏｔｓ ｏｐｅｎ :: temporarily closed~

Bumping this, because I'm open for commissions now!

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Rhohan

Sander | Callan | Lawrence | Hazel

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𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 / / ~𝟘𝟝𝟚𝟝

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_{Collab with @RedDusk @Baklava @Snagglepuss89 @GreenGoat @January}

The roaring of the storm was soon broken. Sounds of combat filled the air, and already, the heavy scents of blood called to him. Somewhere, someone familiar was bleeding. A lot. Far too much. Alive, but faint. But who was this? Not one of those he cared for. So instead, he focused into his fiery trance, reaching out with his senses to feel for the enemies. At the same time, his armor slitted into place around his entire body, the metallic material warm to the touch. Infused with his (someone else?) life blood, it seemed. The effects of Christmas's blood still circled light around his torso, but he hoped he wouldn't need it much with his own regeneration.

Somewhere to his left, Hazel struck at the wall. Packed dirt came crumbling down, and Sander chose that moment to rush in, heading straight toward the unfamiliar scent in front of him. A hunched, hulking shadow collided with his momentum, the impact sending the much smaller of the two masses hurtling to the side. The armor held, but Sander was left winded from the impact as the vaguely humanoid monster shook off the sudden collision. It turned to the blood mage’s sprawled form, as if considering, but the hands that had smashed through the wall were of higher priority so instead it leapt onto the burning wall and then the projected torso, strength enough to tear through the projections as it moved.

A white glow enveloped the demon's leg as Lawrence's power flared to life and the creature clawed at Hazel's projected arm, tearing through the purplish haze while it tumbled down, one leg spasming violently. It hit the ground and tried to realign itself onto the good leg, but the glow switched targets, the seasoned student already expecting that course of action.

Lawrence did not, however, expect the chunk of dirt thrown his way as the black monster found the target hampering its movements.

Letting his rage take the lead, Sander found his footing easily enough. Immediately, the blood mage once again charged at the shadow creature, leaping up at it from behind.

Without warning Hazel shimmered back to solidity, her torso gaping open from the creature's attack, as well as a large gash on her arm. Staggering, she fell flat on her face in a pool of her own blood.

"Wha.."

Turning her head sideways, she caught a glimpse of Lawrence's glow, and what the demon was about to do. With the last bit of her strength, and her vision fading, she stretched out a hand towards him, a large purplish limb catching the chunk of dirt, disintegrating it, before fading. When the impact never came, Lawrence had already moved his arm away from his face where he had at least attempted to shield one of his more vital body parts. The fading limb and a bleeding Hazel were his immediate priorities aside from disabling the creature's arms and flailing it about comically. The action wasn't pettiness, though. He needed to keep it off balance and staggered, hoping to buy enough time for anyone to contest.

His hopes were answered in the form of Sander, leaping onto the shadow monster's back from behind as it wobbled and struggled to dash towards Lawrence. Despite its efforts, Sander clung, the red glow around them both signalling the slow draining effects of his power while Christmas's magic continued boosting his own regenerative powers. Meanwhile, he bit into the creature’s neck and clawed at its eye with his free hand, only to meet unyielding flesh. It twisted suddenly, intending to crush Sander beneath its body as it fell and even with Lawrence's manipulation forcing it to fall at an awkward angle, there was little a single limb could do against gravity. Its tremendous weight fell upon the blood mage clinging to its back, but with a steady supply of blood coursing into him the battered form was already healing and the creature was now struggling to rise, arms and legs alighting white alternatingly as Lawrence interfered. Pain coursed through his body, but Sander only gritted his teeth and held fast, fighting the creature’s movement every step of the way, rain and mud scattering madly around them as the two thrashed against the flooded dirt.

Hoping the monster was occupied enough with Sander, Lawrence released the latest hold on its left leg, exertion already trailing fatigue in its wake. If he kept it up any longer, he'd be in no shape to run, let alone fight. Instead he ran to Hazel, wasting no time tearing at the bloodied clothes on her body with his pocket knife and ripping the blouse into thick strips that he used to bind the worst of the gaping injury on her torso. Her waterlogged clothes were heavy now and he doubted he could drag her back to safety without severely aggravating the injury. Lifting her and dashing to the lighthouse was out of the question. He was strong, not superhuman.

Callan grimaced at the sight of Hazel's wound, shifting forward to help out of habit. Before she knew it, however, a writhing mass of black and red was crashing through the mud and rain, quickly drawing her attention. That shadow creature needed to be taken care of... and maybe it wasn't entirely inconvenient that Hazel be out of commission for a short while. Lawrence seemed to have it covered anyway.

The creature's tail stood exposed every so often as the pair rolled across the earth. Her hammer faded and she dashed forward, doing her best to position herself at the rear before grasping the appendage tightly with both hands as she bent her knees and sharply yanked the creature backwards.

Her feet dug into the wet earth and the monster flailed backwards, Sander still clinging tightly to its torso. It fell backwards onto the supergirl now, claws raking through air and dirt as it struggled against the two students. With a concerted force of both its body and arms, the demon flipped itself over and pushed off from the ground, aiming to just jump away from at least one of the inhumanly strong students and landing a short distance away from the winded Callan. Its clawed hand groped for Sander, still clutching at the back of its neck and getting stronger still. Finding purchase on the blood mage, it whipped his form at the bundle of drenched aquamarine hair, sending him smashing into her.

With no time to react, the impact sent Callan falling and sliding through the mud several yards with a loud, "Oof!" She quickly pushed Sander off and scrambled into motion, her foot slipping once before she was back on her feet. The sky thundered overhead just before a bolt of lightning cast a harsh light over the creature, still softly illuminated by Chris's flames a short distance away. In the menacing light of a dismal dawn, it looked all the part of a fairy tale monster--over twice their height and burly, hulking in the way its back hunched over a pair of gangly arms tipped in needlepoint claws that nearly touched the toes of its hind legs. A beast-like snout, digitigrade posture, and a long tail finished the black creature's feral appearance. Despite the ink darkness of its body, however, a slightly more matte pattern was barely discernible on the base of its throat; it was a familiar mark--a black X.

"Sander!" Callan shouted above the chaos, "What's the plan?"

Sander didn't even spare her an answer. He quickly straightened up and once again lunged toward the monster, intending to tackle it down.

"Sander!" Callan shouted after him incredulously.

With its balance back and Sander charging headfirst, the monster was ready. It met the blood mage head-on in a grapple that its bulk and power still won, tossing Sander to the ground once more where it raked a claw across his torso, breaking through the weakened blood armor and slicing into flesh, other arm already coming down for a follow-up blow that pierced clean through Sander's abdomen, skewering him. The demon lifted him briefly with the embedded arm, free hand wrapping around the plates of blood forming over Sander's face and crushing, the armor barely holding against the pressure for the moment.

More pain threatened to overtake his senses, and a sickening crack that reverberated thorough his ribcage clearly indicated that something had gone horribly wrong. What he felt through the blood high was just an echo, but this was a very loud one. He had no choice but to slip further into his rage, consolidating all his remaining power into a decisive burst, the damage outweighing the effects of Christmas's healing. Yet, it only got worse. The creature lifted him, talons buried in his chest and hand threatened to crush his skull, leaving him squirming at its mercy.

Sander was gritting his teeth so hard, for a moment he was worried he might break them all. With an angry snarl, he batted the hand gripping his head away, before grabbing the arm that was embedded in him and pushing off it to slam his head against the monster’s. It reeled briefly from the blow, but remained upright, hand crushing harder at the armor around Sander's head.

It wasn't too long before Callan ran after Sander, but perhaps it was too late. Her eyes widened in horror as the creature's claw emerged out of Sander's back, piercing through flesh and armor alike. She bit back the panic that momentarily flared in her throat, jumping into a roll as Sander, in spite of his injury, went for the head. Coming to a stop just behind the creature's right heel, she summoned her axe and quickly swung it across the ankles.

The axe severed one ankle and bit deep into the other, the monster turning to look at Callan in disbelief. It fell forward, still holding firmly to Sander's head. As it landed, it swung the occupied arm at Callan, claws tearing into her body enough to leave heavy gashes across her extended arms, but without its full strength in the swing, the attack was far from critical.

The impact of the fall jarred his deep wounds, causing Sander to cry out, his vision blurred dangerously for a few short moments. He recovered soon enough though, maintaining his grip on the creature’s arms, desperation and rage spurring him on.

Callan immediately lost her grip on the axe, crying out behind clenched teeth. Seering pain raced across her arms, tearing cleanly through the fabric of her sweatshirt to reveal the warm blood quickly pooling into the fresh wounds underneath. The fight, however, was far from over. She staggered sideways but quickly regained her balance and rose trembling arms skyward, summoning the axe again in a position similar to that of an executioner. Her amethyst eyes flared with confidence and anger. The shadow monster bore a small resemblance to another certain creature that she hated. There was no hesitation as the axe snapped into its proper form and she forced the ethereal steel down towards the monster's exposed front, careful to note Sander's position. The blow connected soundly with the demon's chest, cutting deep into its thick torso. Despite the grave wound, it flailed again, the arm skewering Sander slamming the mage against the ground once more as it panicked, the pain evident in its movements despite the lack of blood and discernible expression. Another wild swing caught Callan's legs, slicing through muscle and bone and paying her back in kind for the previous attack, though it failed to sever without the creature's focus.

Lying on his side, the blood mage made another effort of restraining the creature's arms, though his strength was slowly seeping away with his blood from the gaping wound. Yet, it didn't seem like he would give up any time soon.

Callan tried not to lose her grip on her weapon's handle again, but a different kind of sensation sent her falling heavily into the mud before she had a chance to even scream. Her leg's felt... loose. The pain was almost blinding. Rolling away from the creature, she pulled her knees in close, gasping out a strained whimper as her hand brushed against the new injury. Trying to recollect her thoughts and remain calm, she was still for a moment save the occasional shudder.

The skirmish was interrupted by the sudden crashing of what appeared to be the entire lighthouse top against the wall in the distance, the shatter of stone, glass, and wood ringing louder than the storm as several of the trees fell under the massive cement segment. Glass and broken metal beams scattered in the wake of the rubble skidding briefly across the ground as it smashed through the sand and dirt wall and ended its brief travel a dozen meters away on the other side of the steam.

But the continued march of the living wood and the wall's slow reform meant the attack, as shocking as it was, had been only that: a surprise.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

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𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 / / ~𝟘𝟝𝟚𝟝

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Callan silently watched the exchange leading up to Siena and Brent's disappearance with rising unease. As if Padma's death or Savannah's accident weren't reason enough-- Callan had long since decided that a leadership role was well beyond her. Turns out matters of life and death and magic are a bit different from ball games after all. Eventually she'd get there, but for now it was best to follow. Even so, she felt strongly that leaving the mansion was the wrong thing to do. Safer maybe... but wrong. At least for her.

It was almost like D.C. all over again. Angel, Gregory, and the missing staff member weren't the only innocent ones out there in danger, were they? The Amigos weren't exactly familiar to her, but what did it matter? Hadn't there been enough death and destruction already? Evil mages, wild monsters-- what was the difference? Aside from a sense of human decency, maybe. But if she couldn't stop either, then what good was she anyway?

Mistakes of her classmates aside, mages attacking mages was only slightly less unforgivable than mages deliberatly attacking innocent civilians. Especially when those being attacked were only trying to help those who couldn't help themselves. Even with the small role she herself played, the others had managed to save several lives at the captial. So why were they being targeted? Who could possibly be upset about that? They were heroes! And this... this was a gross abuse of power. One she'd been far too lenient about in Wisford. Surely the Precursors would never back down from a fight like this. Probably wouldn't hesitate either....

Tying her hair up as Zoe proceeded to grill Ernie and Marcus about the missing pair, it was obvious that convincing the others to stay was out of the question. With the entrance blocked off and the words being exchanged, it seemed the odds were as much against her as they had been for Chris, who hadn't even been allowed to teleport with Siena for thier impromptu scouting mission. Though perhaps there was further reasoning for that -- holing herself up in her room hadn't granted her much as far as gossip went. Not that she was very interested anyway.

Then again, there did seem to be a strange tension between Siena and Marcus just now. Or had she just imagined it? He barely tried to stop her from leaving at all and somehow that struck her as odd. Reading people had never been her forte, but despite her isolation, she did reserve hope that the others were growing closer together rather than further apart. Callan hoped they knew that she was there for them at least. In whatever ways she could be without risking another Misery mishap.

Being rushed down the corridor, the extra endurance her ability granted made the run far less of a challenge. She couldn't help but try and steal several glances back down the hallway, struggling to see past the assemblage of maids and butlers tailing them. Siena's ability was strong. And Brent was clever. They'd be alright, wouldn't they?

The state of the lighthouse and the precarious looking ferry outside was foreboding at best. The ocean seemed angry... perhaps unhappy with the decision to flee. The watery footsteps and drops of blood were unsettling as well, but not as much as Sander's assessment.

“Someone’s out there. There’s one person ahead, too.”

She moved towards a nearby window and squinted out into the darkness. It was nearly impossible to make anything out. A commotion erupted between Zoe and Marcus, briefly drawing her attention. She stifled a sigh, shaking her head irritably when she heard her name mentioned. She moved to say something, feeling somehow obligated on account of their agreement, but decided against it. If anyone was capable of fighting their own battles, it was definitely Zoe. In fact, she felt a sparce bit of heated tension rise to her cheeks at the thought of what else may have been said about her while she was hiding away.

Turning back to the window, she tried to refocus, carefully summoning her hammer. She silently kept tabs on as many conversations going on behind her as she could. At least a few people seemed to be on the same page. She quietly noted those who had chosen to head outside.

An unpleasant uncertainty was brewing angrily in her gut. Despite her lack of experience, she'd somehow felt so much more prepared for all the other fights. Distinct lack of soldiers and several teammates aside, she knew it was because of Misery. Even with their terrible track record, she'd managed to get by on the idea that they'd soon be back at USARILN, where she would get a chance to properly train before their next confrontation. And, of course, there was Hazel-- whom nobody seemed very concerned about as she wondered freely. She tightened her grip on the hammer, and whatever semblance of control over this situation she felt she or anyone could possibly have along with it.

Even if she wanted to, she had no orders to give. Nor any to take. Should she talk to someone? Should she follow Sander and the others? Her confidence was dwindling with each passing second, but she didn't know what else to do but wait. Wait and pray.

Perhaps in vain. It began as a flicker of movement, almost dismissible were it not for Sander's warning.

"Incoming!" Callan shouted, rushing from the window to the doorway, arms tense as they bore the weight of her hammer. "Nobody leave!" she shouted to the others inside, despite herself.

She came to an abrupt stop beside Sander outside, eyes widening at the sight of black and white clad arbiters blocking their path.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

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𝕊𝕦𝕟: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟚𝟘, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕠𝕟, 𝔻.ℂ. / / ℂ𝕚𝕥𝕪 + 𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕤𝕜𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕤 / / ~𝟙𝟚𝟛𝟘

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_{Collab with @January}

Callan felt guilty for ignoring Brent's advice. Part of her felt obligated to listen to him, but she knew her limits. That light in the sky was out of the question. Recalling the boy's barrage of inquiries addressing every minute detail of Callan's ability, a thought flickered through her mind. Also out of the question.

The streets had filled quickly with frenzied citizens before Callan jumped down from the toppled penthouse. A wide girth was provided as the superhuman girl landed effortlessly on her feet. Screaming escalated at the sight of an obvious subnatural. She tried not to focus on how much that hurt. A pang of unparalleled heartbreak pierced her chest as she cast her eyes around what remained of the street and nearby buildings.

Already Callan could see that the death and bloodshed hadn't been restricted to the soldiers of the penthouse alone. It was a miracle none of her teammates had been killed. One she was severely grateful for as she forced herself to move forward, passing weeping mothers and injured children and feeling the weight of their desperate gazes on her back. She wanted to help them. This wasn't like Wisford. These people could still make it. She could grab them and run... they were right there....

No. Now wasn't the time to let emotions take over. Heroes needed a level head. Now if she could just figure out a way to take it down without getting any more people killed....

In order to get a better look at the ice giant's location as well as to escape the crippling guilt, Callan leapt onto a nearby building that was several levels high. She watched the events unfold as Hazel's attack connected, leaving the girl badly injured. The blast, the crushing gravity field, and Kadabra... she followed everything with her eyes as she trailed after the rampaging ice giant from the rooftops, tying her hair up as she moved. This wasn't like Wisford and she was going to make damn sure it stayed that way.

"...you could have done better."

Steeling herself with a deep breath, Callan was quick to realize her attempt to catch up with the ice monster was leaving much to be desired. At this rate, there wasn't going to be a city left to save. Her eyes flashed towards the open area Kadabra had corralled the ice giant into and, just as the rumbling sound of a large chunk of building nearby drew her attention, an idea sparked. Drawing her hammer as she ran, Callan jumped, barely managing to land on the forward-facing section of the quickly rising building while managing the weight of her weapon.

The Precursor would have missed the girl's presence entirely were it not for the flash of ludicrously colored hair that tapped at the corner of his vision along with the flicker of movement that he didn't command. The section of building Callan had jumped onto stopped moving and hovered in place while Kadabra turned back to the ice giant. Another building swung itself at the monster in a large sweep, catching it by the legs while its arms remained occupied grappling with a large steel mesh that had been the frame of an ongoing construction project. The impact dropped the giant to one knee, but didn't topple it. Kadabra took the opportunity to bury it in rubble again, attempting to hold down the dome of building material like a makeshift prison.

Now he had time for distractions.

"WHAT. ARE YOU DOING?!" he shouted towards the superhuman girl, lifting her platform closer to his location high in the sky.

Callan blinked as the building piece came to a stop almost as soon as she landed. Expecting forward instead of upward momentum, she wobbled for a moment, adjusting her stance as Kadabra yelled and lifted her away. She quailed a bit in the face of one of her childhood heroes, but the weight in her hands as she tightened her grip around the ethereal steel was a reminder. She wasn't just some kid watching from her television set at home anymore. She intended to help.

"SEND ME TOWARDS THE GIANT!" she yelled back, surprised and somewhat embarrassed by the amount of confidence in her tone as she commanded the Precursor.

Kadabra hesitated for only a second. Some choices had to be made on the spot.

"Then hold on!" he answered, giving Callan only a few seconds of warning. She nodded in reply.

The giant finally tore through the net of steel beams during the brief discussion, but Callan's ride was already speeding through the air towards its head. A good football field's distance away, Callan lowered herself into a crouch and launched towards the ice giant's chest, straining to aim and swing her heavy hammer while falling. The chunk of building continued on its way, crashing into the creature's exposed face and sending it careening backwards. Leaving little room to recover, Callan's hammer connected with the giant's chest with a resounding crack. It reeled back further but remained upright.

The frigid air surrounding the giant's frozen body rushed past her as gravity pulled her down. Callan mentally cursed. She wouldn't be able to knock it down as long as it was in that position. The weapon in her hand unraveled into dark wisps as she reforged the hammer into a large sword. She exhaled sharply as the earth rushed to meet her. Shifting her weapon to the side, she rolled upon impact, breaking into a run towards massive ankle supporting the giant's weight. Already this was beginning to remind her of her role in Wisford, but she pushed the thoughts aside. This time would be different. Sander wasn't here, but it didn't matter. She could handle this. She could do better.

Jumping to clear the height of the foot, Callan threw the weight of her sword across her body, hanging on tightly as, led by the momentum, she spun once before the blade made contact. The attack blew out a massive chunk of the creature's ankle, sending fracture lines shooting upwards along the length of its leg. The power attempted to compensate by sprouting a wave of spiked ice all around the area of damage, but the attack had done its work. The giant now kneeled fully, unable to push itself back up on just one leg while Kadabra's buildings forced its hands to remain busy.

Grunting with exertion, Callan instinctively rose her arm to try and brace herself against the icy spikes. They shoved her away roughly, but she landed on her feet, feeling some of the rubber leave the soles of her shoes as she skidded backwards through a concrete path. Her forearm throbbed, but she could tell nothing was broken. Pushing a sweat drenched strand of aquamarine out of her eyes, she admired her handiwork for only a moment before bolting towards the massive kneecap belonging to the uninjured leg. That last attack had worked well, but she wanted to avoid being pummeled by anymore spikes.

Callan jumped earlier this time, swinging the heavy sword across her body just as she'd done before. As she swung the blade towards her target, however, seeming as though she'd come up a bit short, she extended the weapon's length-- similar to the way she'd done so with the rod on the La Plata hospital roof.

"...you could have done better."

The words resonated in the back of her mind again.

The blade shattered through what passed for the giant's kneecap and then further into its leg, causing the limb that held it upright to collapse under the sudden brutality of the precision strike. The broken regeneration sprouted more icicles at random, but not quickly enough and not in the right places to defy the pull of gravity.

The earth shook as the giant fell forward, Kadabra's sustained assault further helping Callan push it down though the teetering of the massive torso nearly fell upon her as well. Instead, a wave of dirt and rubble shoved her back several meters away. The force caused her to release the sword. It burst into black wisps just before she tumbled away. Rolling from her back into a runners pose almost as soon as she had hit the ground, Callan grit her teeth and burst forward, leaving a small crater in her wake.

If Hazel's attack had been any indication, it wouldn't be long before the giant managed to regenerate enough to stand. Choosing to leave herself unhindered by Misery's weapon form, she knew she her window was small.