Grinning, Nash took the cloaked woman's hand and shook it vigorously. The middle-aged sailor seemed altogether overjoyed that his guild had managed to accompany something.
”Our pleasure. Tough Love might not be the strongest guild, but you can count on us to do the right thing.” Salvoy knelt down, holding out a giant, blue hand to give his partner a massive high-five. His baleen was exposed in a strange but heartwarming sort of smile.
”Hah! We've done something good for our guild at last! That ought to make up for yesterday's flump, at least a bit!”The Dullahan, newly repossessed of her head, which despite Magni's best unconscious efforts had nary a scratch on I, waved her arm to get Regan's attention.
”Oi! Frenzy Plant gets a little credit, right?” With her good mood it was apparent that she wasn't actually frustrated. As she looked around at the gathered people, Xyster took note that what had previously been a foreboding and serious event had become not much more than a guild outing following the narrow aversion of a disastrous crash. She couldn't blame everyone; she knew enough about humans and had shared enough experience with them to know that relief could flow through the veins like blood, and relaxing or talking were among the best ways to work it out of a system. Still beaming maniacally, she twirled her head around by the ribbons and waited for the event to be over. While it had been fairly exciting on her end, a total lack of knowledge concerning the scoring system meant she could have just as easily come last on the scoreboards instead of first. Although Nash and Salvoy did deserve much of the credit for the save, Xyster was hoping her involvement, plus her elimination of that giant dinosaur, would vault her guild up the scoreboard.
This street, like so many others, was now empty. A few minutes ago it had been the locale of an exciting and crowd-pleasing spectacle, some competitor or another tearing through what meager obstacles this pathetic maze could throw at them. Burns, scrapes, and craters littered the streets. Really, one had to wonder how short-sighted the planning for the event must have been. Homes, stores, offices, places of work and play, all had their facades desecrated by the passing battles. Concussive blasts shattered windows, rogue spells warped fences or set decorative plants ablaze. Indeed, it was a legitimate question to wonder if the millions made by tourism for these Grand Magic Games would cover the damages by the time said games were through. The hospital bills, at least, would be staggering.
Such fun.
A lone figure sauntered down the sidewalk, walking into shadows and out again, moving at a brisk pace. His garb was, even in the midst of a gathering of almost every wizard in Fiore, a particular oddity. Frequently, his eyes roved over the various damages or leftover creature remains in the streets, but he never stopped to admire the work of the strongest guild's chosen champions. Soon, this man had reached the castle. Carefully stepping over scattered rubbles, he sat down on what had once been the head of a statue just in time to see Delsin's explosive shot send Luna tumbling and burned. His pitch-black face, more of a shadow than an array of features, bore the semblances of curiosity and amusement.
In her time at Frenzy Plant Cecilia had seen a lot of strange stuff, but a giant whale-man carrying an airship was new even for her. At first, she thought that they were being attacked. When it became obvious that everything was okay, however, the young knight allowed herself to relax. In the course of said relaxation, she happened to spot a familiar cloaked figure approaching the camp. Alongside her was a strange man, one who looked flat-out intimidating. Bloody neck, black eyes, crimson hair and wear? He looked so much like a demon, Cecilia almost flinched right there. If Thor could trust this guy, though, she could at least give him the benefit of the doubt.
Holding her practice sword in a casual but still accessible fashion, she approached the two people.
”Hi there. Is everything alright?”The outstretched hand hung in the air awkwardly. One of the most profound gestures of friendship recognized by human beings, and it went totally ignored. No, not just ignored—condescendingly rejected. Lethargically, the fingers curled in, and the hand withdrew.
Rather abruptly, Nero stood up. That zany smile had returned, wide and toothy, and he seemed the picture of cheerful and friendly as he said to the others,
”P-pardon me,” he excused himself, beginning with a slight stutter.
”Be back in just a minute.” Throwing his cape over his shoulder, the genie made tracks out of the hotel, trying to ignore the feel of eyes on the back of his head. He made his way to the street, despite the protest of a bystander declaring the maze event to be still in session. Once there, he sought with fervent urgency an ally, a miniature park, anywhere he could be alone. A suitable location appeared in the form of a playground. Nero started toward it before he jolted to a stop, stung by the memory of the word
child. The dark mage growled in rage, his face a frightening visage to behold when contorted in both rage and a steely grin trying to belie it.
He flung a scrawny, silky-gloved fist at the first piece of metal playground equipment he encountered, and when his hand connected, a Law of Embodiment activated, turning the entire contraption into dust that quickly collapsed. The scene scared a couple of birds off from a nearby bush, and he pointed a finger at one, now scowling. The first bird withered, becoming skinny and pitiful in an instant, and made an exhausted and woeful attempt to fly before it dropped out of the sky. As it hit the dirt, Nero lowered his hand, his breath heavy. Watching the bird struggle limply on the ground, the genie strode slowly over, muttering furiously to nobody.
”He's not even listening. I try to concede, and he slings insults in my face. Playin' at magic!? I could win any fight in the world with a single move, if only I cared. I could turn this entire damn city into a zoo, or a big statue emporium, or a quarantine zone, with a snap of my fingers. I could turn that arrogant pinhead into a nauseous five-year-old, or a banana slug, or steal his willpower and make him lick the mud off my slippers! And what does he do, after he finishes deriding me, demonizing me, rejecting me, and slandering me? He vomits my own words back into my face: keep quiet or it'll upset Eve! He doesn't even know he just admitted I was right with those words!” Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Nero knelt. A hand passed over the dying bird, and its body returned to what it had been.
”There. It's not your fault. It's people that are the real animals.” Nero turned around and sat down against the stone wall, his head in his hands. The bird, meanwhile, fluttered off, no doubt utterly bamboozled.
”I'm this close to snappin',” he thought aloud.
”But if I do, I'll lose the only friends I've ever had. But how'd I get along with a man who won't truce, who hates me, and is physically incapable of bein' wrong? Agh...why'd I even get myself inta this mess?”
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