Cuttersbury: Trail towards Drych LakeA shrill shriek left Estelle’s lips after she reached the apex of her hit from the Varren, falling down to the ground at an alarming rate. Her body hurt too much from the beast’s powerful kick for her to place herself in a position to land safely, even as another of Amy’s heals washed over her body. She soared faster and faster, the ground rapidly approaching to welcome her…!
And then she stopped, her fall having been cushioned by something a lot softer underneath. Estelle blinked in confusion, having anticipated the rough, harsh and jagged earth below to have embraced her, and not this strange… lump instead. What was that?
She looked down, her eyes widening shock and her lips emitting another sharp shriek. Positioned in a particular compromising position beneath her, with his head squashed by Estelle’s buttocks, was the well meaning and noble Jett, whose jump had been mistimed just so to not catch her in his arms, but instead his face.
“Pervert, pervert, pervert!” Estelle began smacking his body, now oblivious to the ongoing battle around her.
“Ah, I see what you’re planning,” Marcus smiled after seeing Quentin launch himself into one of the trees, thanks to the wind mage’s own agility buff. He had to admit, he was growing a real sense of admiration and affinity for the other mage. He was certainly an interesting man with a fascinating magic speciality. Quentin’s actions, he thought, could prove absolutely vital for the Pride’s chances of success. As a water mage, there would be no one better to break through the Varren’s rock hard defenses then he. And he would be there to assist.
“Q.T, let me know whenever you’re ready, and we’ll able to do as we did before,” Marcus smiled, as he prepared and gifted his allies with more agility enhancing buffs.
"Hey, someone! Get its face closer to the ground, pleaaase!" Trixie shouted, a mischevious grin growing on the prankster’s face as she whipped out a disarmingly cute toy that had been retrofitted into a dangerously sticky splatbomb, affectionately named ‘Yam’. "If I can get a good throw at his face, we can blind him silly!"
“You’ve got it!” Came a shout to her side, as the last member of the Pride began running towards the Varren, still locked in a deadly stalemate against Moira. Lute began charging towards the oversized monster with a huff, his sword newly sheathed, and his fist wrenched back, ready to hit. As Nani had gracefully shown them all earlier, swords would not quite deal the damage they’d need, and whilst a normal punch wouldn’t amount to anything other then a broken wrist either (unless you were Moira), Lute could do a little something to hopefully make such an attack stronger – strong enough to hit it in range of Trixie’s bomb. As a virtuoso, he was essentially a sound mage. With the help of the sassy familiar spirit in his head Delilah, Lute could control the sounds of those around him, amplifying music and shouts, or quietening them instead. And with a lot of precise concentration… he could absorb the sounds of that around him, and channel it into a burst of power…!
Despite all of the fighting about them, and Estelle’s relentless screaming of ‘pervert!’, the site grew silent. Lute jumped up, to allow his fist to reach head height of the Varren, angling at punching it to the ground. He swung, at the same time Trixie readied to throw Yam…!
But his swing missed, as the Big Bro Varren jumped up into the air, spinning around and around and around. In one swift, simultaneous motion, the Big Bro Varren kicked Lute in the face beneath it so that he slammed into the ground below, being pelted with Trixie’s splatterbomb. Nani was also thrown clear off the Varren, the monster’s spinning far too much for her to hold onto. She was thrown far off, landing haphazardly again on the poor Jett, whom Estelle had just gotten off from once noticing again the fight against the Varren thanks to the deaf quietude about them.
And finally, after all of this, the very ground the Pride stood upon rumbled and shook again with another violent tremor as the big Varren landed on the ground. The ground cracked and splintered even further, the trees and their branches swaying backwards and forwards roughly, leaves raining down to the ground.
Why was this thing so tough?
Upon landing, the Big Bro Varren did another spin and pose, his claws and shades gleaming in the overhead sun. He then turned around, and began searching everywhere he could for the beautiful Varren he had been dancing with earlier, only for her to be nowhere to be seen. Where did she go? (In truth, Ari’s concentration of the illusion had been upset by the quake, but the distracting illusion’s dispelling was thankfully equally as distracting).
“Don’t give up!”
BOOM
The Varren’s head recoiled backwards as a loud bang erupted in the valley. Standing in front of the large monster was Tobi, his outstretched arm having aimed and fired his shotgun mighty gunblade at the beast’s chin, sending it reeling backwards, staggering to keep its footing. Tobi grinned at the attack, before his cheeks and eyes bulged in horror, turning to vomit again at the ground. He still hadn’t recovered from the dizziness and smell from before.
And in his own distraction, he was sent flying backwards, the speedy Varren swatting the marauder into the chest. He went flying into Moira’s arm, forcing her to skid several feet backwards.
The Big Bro Varren reared its head up and unleashed a deafening roar. Now, now it was mad. Mad at first for the harm the Pride had done to its brothers. Mad at all of the annoying attacks these humans had been attempting on him. And mad that the hottie Varren had vanished without leaving a phone number. It was mad, and the Pride was in its way.
It stamped its feet again, signalling another heavy tremor about them all. The Pride were in danger.
