HereComesTheSnow

A Certain Parallel Cosmos

Ryuji Igarashi - Traffic Jam - District 19

@Krayzikk@1Charak2

As much as Ryuji wanted to not abandon someone to confronting an unknown enemy like this, he understood that there wasn't anything more he could offer to Sieglinde but his cooperation. When you were on the power scale of ripping signposts out of the ground, a normal level of strength would just be getting in the way. Doubly so since it seemed to only have eyes for her in the first place.

"On it," he said through grit teeth as the pain in his skull mounted, sliding her glasses into the collar of his shirt for the time being, "It's out front, right?"

Her place wasn't too far from here. If he really hustled, he could make it there in a minute or two. It wasn't as if anyone else lived by there—

The pressure redoubled. He felt like something was about to crack, he felt like his eyes were gonna explode! What was he still doing here!? He needed to get the damn bike so they could get out of here!

He turned to leave, free hand clutching at his temples, as Siegliende's voice changed beneath the screams into something different, something with a layer beneath, something awe-inspiring...

And with one final shriek that heralded a wave of torment anew,

"...It's gone."

The apparition passed, and with it, Ryuji's urge to vomit from the vice upon his skull. That had to be what cluster headaches felt like... Terrible. It just compounded and compounded until it damn near drove him insane. If he hadn't already experienced a portion of it, if he hadn't already been given a task to focus on, Ryuji wasn't quite sure he wouldn't have. Still, though, what an anticlimax.

Or...

"Think that's it?" he asked the blonde, who looked for all the world to be ready to take on giants. "Knowing our luck, knowing this town... It'll hit us again later, won't it?"

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

And may these sinners be granted eternal life, should death prove due penance.

He had counted Paladin Tyaethe's swift advance as enough acknowledgement of his idea, following closely behind himself. While she was assisting Sir Jarde, the younger knight had busied himself with mopping up what remnants tried to break off the from the front and flee— a pair of skirmishers who liked their chances of getting past him better than they did as prisoners of the Iron Rose.

Swiping down with a sharp, chopping motion, Gerard rid most of the blood from his blade as he returned to the group proper, eyeing the prisoners the knights had taken before glancing back over his shoulder to the felled pair further up.

They did not stand down when I gave them the opportunity.

It was unfortunate, but wishing their souls' absolution was all the mercy he could have afforded them. They had resolved to keep fighting, and he had orders and cause to let none escape. While sparing someone was a virtuous act, there were limits before it became a ruinous one. This... would have been crossing those. No way out. The Iron Rose stood for Justice and Mercy. When Mercy was not taken, the hammer of Justice fell.

No time was then for deliberation, and no time was now for doubt.

This was how things were. Spare those who are willing to be spared, swiftly deal with those who were not and render them no threat to yourself, your own, or your protectorate.

Now then, for checkups after battle. He remembered the order of operation that had been drilled into him for a warfighter's attending to needs— Horse, Harness, Man.

"Horse" was simple in this case— Quite literally just a horse, but in the terms of the mantra it referred to one's method of travel. Had they been in a caravan, for instance, or using a wagon, the knights would first want to ensure their mobility was not hampered. Gerard, luckily, found nothing along those lines— his Rouncey had been trained well, neither spooking nor running off and getting himself injured in the melee that had ensued.

"Glad you're safe, my friend."

Onto "Harness". His gear. The sword had made it through unscathed, and only needed more thorough cleaning— which he set to work on as he retrieved a rag from his saddle. As for the rest of him, he had come out of the fight unscathed, luckily enough. They were untrained warriors, true, but that the lone bolt from the trees had buried itself in his pauldron as opposed to his neck was fortunate indeed. A firm yank tore it free, leaving a slightly warped hole in the metal. He would need it repaired after this, but for now...

Raising, rotating, and swinging the arm in a wide circle, he was satisfied that it did not alter his range of motion all too much. He could swing his sword just fine.

"Man", then. Was he well?

A bit of pain on the aforementioned shoulder, likely no more than bruising. His thudding heart had calmed, his breath had fully returned to him. He could think, he could speak, he could fight. He expected to be no less capable in any of these before or after a culling of untrained bandits such as this. Nothing from the skirmish would affect him in the main battle.

He was ready, then. He met the passing gaze of yet another of his fellows, Sir Jerel, who seemed to be lost as to what they were expected to do next. For Gerard, it was simply answered.

"Onwards, I imagine."

@jdh97

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

Slasher Movie? You mean this won't eventually deteriorate into Generation Kill with Swords?

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

that's bonus points

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

End them rightly.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

ending them rightly was the correct move in each engagement, Gerard knew his fellows could manage to take one prisoner

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

girls have cooties ill pass bro

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

@Virgil If he offers the momentum, it’s only polite to take it

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war...

Not a phrase one often heard amongst knightly company, being that they held themselves to higher standards than "crying havoc". They were chivalrous, they were controlled, they did not let themselves slip, they were above mere dogs. These were all understandings he had long held, even before he himself had risen to their level.

A flash of movement from his peripheral prompted him to whirl into a sidestep, barely registering that the point of the brigand's spear had nicked the cloth shirt beneath his cuirass, inches from his ribs. Initiative wasn't his after this man charged him from the treeline. He had to remedy that. Fight in the third, crucial stance, The Instant. The realm of split decisions that could set up a sturdy defense to regain a fierce offense. His left arm clamped down upon the wooden haft of the spear as the momentum of the thrust carried it clear without the resistance of flesh and bone to impede it. Pinning the weapon to his side before the foe could retract it, he stepped forward and used his free hand to ram his pommel into the bridge of the bandit's nose, earning a spurt of blood for his effort and stopping the hands that were scrambling for the dagger after giving up on retrieving their lance.

Gerard Segremors did not yet possess that level of domain amongst himself. Not yet, as six months could only undo so much of seven years. He still yet grappled with the trance of bloodshed, the disembodying sensation of combat's action and reaction. At times, it was almost as if he watched himself fight. It was worse when he was angered... and though he was not filled with white-hot rage yet, each bloodied weapon drove him a step further.

Without much of a thought, the new knight cut the man clutching at the white pain that had exploded across his vision, a spray of red from his side coming forth as he fell. He had made his way past most of the mass of his brethren now, and was drawing even with Paladin Tyaethe, Knight-Captain Fanilly, and Artificer Elodie. He noted their presence and roughly what they were doing, that the latter was kneeling near the wounded man and the former pair were currently engaging enemies.

There were bandits yet in front of them, he intuited, like the one their Captain had just slain. If those turned tail and ran, they would doubtlessly break away from the group and report back to their 'Bandit King'. He would not abide this. They could not flee from what they had done. He wouldn't let them.

A bolt at a shallow angle bit into his pauldron, prompting the spear he carried to be stabbed thunderously into the brush on the right of him with its full length. His golden eyes, alight with intent to repay, caught the fleeting form of his assailant nimbly weaving past the strike, having already been in motion after loosing the crossbow, and tracked his movement—

The rumble of thunderous magic informed them both of the bandit's destination— fulminated death. The mages had began their counterattack as ordered, and around their section of woods harassing forces much like him met similar fates at the hands of the Iron Rose's arcane arm. Between the crack of lightning and kinetic jolt from the bolt that was now stuck within the padding beneath the plate, though, he returned somewhat from his combative fugue.

"The front," he breathed, addressing the group nearby as he was allowed a moment by the mages. "I believe we should cut it off. Pen them in like we originally planned."

@VitaVitaAR@Raineh Daze@ERode