@Write @HereComesTheSnowFlying was something else.
Not flying in an airship, actually
flying. Not something Ben would ever had the ability to do himself, but Bianca Nuit made it look easy. And tagging along for the ride, he could get a glimpse at that, too. He had dropped out of an airship without any sort of parachute under similar circumstances, using the force from that terminal velocity to achieve a decisive strike on an immense enemy. His heart had raced, adrenaline pumped, and it had felt like nothing else.
It still wasn’t anything like this.
Bianca wove in and out of attacks with ease, changing course and altitude in ways that made him
feel his stomach moving around. It took some time to adjust to that, to get used to the rapid changes and the fact that he had absolutely
no control over his own trajectory. One hand maintained his grip on the Faunus girl, because falling would
really suck, but the other was on Joyous Guard. She was doing a fantastic job of keeping them away from the vines but there were simply too
many of them. He couldn’t do a lot, not while he was a passenger, but run interference? That he could do. The blade shot out here and there, batting aside or biting into any tendril that got too close. Anything that dared to threaten their forward advance would be evaded or eviscerated, without exception. It was a comfortable rhythm, almost, once he got settled into it. He had to trust that she could keep them in the air, and he did.
Nuit might have seemed uncertain and meek before the fight started, but she was holding her own. Even better than he’d thought. If she said she could do it, she could. No doubt. Between them no tendril could really get close, no matter how hard the DIonaea tried; and it was
trying. The rest of the battle had faded to a dull din in his mind, something beyond the screen imposed by the writhing plant matter; he could no longer really see the others, or he had no
time to see them. From up here, there was nothing he could do anyway. He had to trust that they could hold their own, just like he had to trust that Nuit could fly.
When her wings enveloped them, he had to grin. Any other time the exhilaration might have made him laugh, but all he had time for was a grin.
But they couldn’t get close, not close enough to strike. The Dionaea was making sure of that. Evasion and defense could get them close, but not close
enough.
…
”Throw me.””What?””Throw me.” Ben pointed with the Joyous Guard’s tip, deciding it’d be clearer than trying to explain. He cocked his head a little, flashing the Mistralian girl a cocky grin. Bianca’s eyes widened a little when it clicked, until surprise was replaced with a matching grin.
A lot of things happened at once. Bianca got as close as she could, made sure she had a line of sight on the main trunk, and
threw. Her arm was bolstered by her Semblance, hurling the Redwood boy forward and down. Ben channeled
his Semblance into his arms and shoved off from his grip on Bianca in the same direction, gripping Joyous Guard with both hands and drawing it in close and parallel with his body.
He became a spear. A spear thrown from on high, hurtling towards his target like a bolt of lightning. Both Semblances sped him up well beyond what gravity alone could ever have done, his blade cutting through air resistance like it was nothing.
Their monstrous foe seemed to have realized, at the last moment, what was happening. It went after Bianca with a vengeance but the girl was already evading, breaking off the attack with her job done. She didn’t retreat, she harried the Grimm on her own, but it was Ben that really drew its attention. It tried to bar his way with vines, but even the thickest tendrils did not even slow his flight.
The air ripped at his face, buffeted his air, and streamed through his uniform. It could only have been a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. Joyous Guard’s inertia alone could have carried him through the Grimm’s hastily improvised defenses, it was like a freight train in motion, but the slain tendrils still battered against him when he tore through. The Grimm was silent or he might have thought the roar that ripped through his throat belonged to it. Joyous Guard’s pommel braced against his palm, leaving no room for the weapon to slip off course, his Aura gathered for impact, the cacophony of battle drowned out in the blood pumping through his ears-
In an instant, the tip of his blade struck true; buried to the hilt.
***
There wasn’t anywhere near enough time between classes.
Not when you needed to get from one place to the next, try and deal with the fact that your shoes were
soaked, and catch your breath from the last one. Still, he was looking forward to PE; he knew Luke was there, and he hadn’t gotten to spend any time with his friend since the mission at the refinery.
There was no dealing with his pants, not without a trip back to the dorm, but he needed different shoes for gym anyway. The uniform shoes were classy, but athletics practical? Less so. Grimm Studies to the gym was a bit of a haul, and he’d had to waste some time changing shoes and grabbing his stuff from the classroom, so he had to cheat a little; a little help from his friend Deinamig got him there with a minute to spare.
He jogged into the room with Joyous Guard returned his his back (and returned to a shield, no sense hauling a huge sword around) and his jacket tossed over one shoulder. He wasn’t worried about explaining the state of his hair, or why his pant legs were soaked. Anyone who’d ever heard of Port would understand.
He came to a halt next to Luke, once he picked out the Shiroyaman kid at his usual spot.
”Hey, man.” He greeted, taking a pause for a quick breath.
”Good to see ya.” 
Ghosthands,
Plank Sinatra,
UltimoScorp,
The World
