[It had seemed like a good choice of route for such a long while, too. Sure, days of walking through such hilly terrain wasn't exactly easy, but they'd gone five days without encountering any trouble. Given all the warnings they'd been given about the different paths, those quiet days of walking had been encouraging.
But of course, that fifth night had to turn everything to shit.
Right before all hell breaks loose, he's seated close to their campfire for the night, a small distance away from the bulk of the group as is his tendency when he doesn't have a Kaede or a Kaito around to drag him into being more social. The wave of dread that hits suddenly seems so irrational without any immediately obvious causes, but he can't shake the chill running down his spine or the sense that something awful is coming.
Which is about when he notices the sword he's been carrying around since waking up with it here. He's been keeping the thing tied to his belt with the most durable scrap of fabric he could find at the temple and otherwise generally ignoring it, but in the heavy shadows of the night and flickering firelight, it's hard not to see the white light just barely escaping from the crack between the hilt and sheath. Frowning, he tugs the katana out of the sheath and can only blink at the brightly glowing blade.]
Uh...
[What does he even say about something like that? "Hey guys, my sword is glowing for some reason"?? Kinda obvious. Any opportunity for comment he might have had is pretty immediately lost anyway, as a shrieking sound from overhead sounds as seemingly a cue for the ensuing chaos, startling him so badly that the sword practically jumps from his hands, clattering to the ground and across the stony ground like an oversized glowstick. And then everyone is up and yelling and running about and he's too easily jostled about in the commotion to quickly retrieve it. Shit.]
b. REVAN
[He'd expected to be less than useless with the katana. It's not like he's ever touched a sword in his life before waking up here, and carrying the thing around for a week didn't really count as any kind of training. He's surely more likely to accidentally hurt himself or someone else swinging the thing around without any real clue what he's doing.
And yet. When he pulls the sword from its sheath, it feels like he's been doing so all his life and just forgotten. One of the black cloaked things swoops in close with that aura of dread and cold, and when he strikes at it the movement is precise and controlled, slicing through tattered ends of fabric as the thing dodges away at the last moment before pulling back to a safer distance.
What the fuck.
He'd like that bewildered thought to be his only thought on this matter, but unfortunately, no. As wild as this seems at first, it's not the first he's heard of people being given amazing talents without them even realizing it. Thinking that this, whatever it is, could be more of the same, he feels faintly queasy in a way he knows he can't blame on the cloaked monsters.
Still. Whatever's going on, whatever his feelings on the situation are, this isn't the time for his normal overthinking. If it helps them all get out of this alive then he'll make use of it for now. Steeling himself, Shuichi lifts the blade again and sidesteps the monster as it darts in again, once again failing to do any damage but succeeding in fending it off. That's fine, he can work with that. He darts behind a ruined wall and then hurries around another, trying to lose the thing and regroup with the others he'd someone gotten separated from in the initial fray. He can feel it pursuing more than he can hear it, that dreadful aura far louder than its rattling gasps.]
c. BART AND LATER DIXON
[All this is so far out of his usual realm of expertise that he barely knows what to do. He's always been strategic and cool under pressure, but that's like...the pressure of impending deadlines, or even a hurried investigation before a trial with everyone's lives on the line. Pressure, potentially lethal pressure even, but it's still really not at all the same as a battlefield full of monsters and dark wizards slinging spells. This is frantic and fast-paced, more about quick thinking and fast reactions than strategy or whatever. He's pretty sure he'd be dead already if not for this new swordsman talent he's apparently been given.
But through it all, he can at least keep in mind that goal and grouping back up with everyone and from there...something. They could figure that could when they got to that point.
Up ahead, he spots a vaguely familiar figure. One of the other younger members of the group, someone he recognizes but hasn't talked to. But anyone is good right now. He hurries over, half-focused on keeping his footing on the hilly, sloping terrain with all its scattered rubble -- the swordsman talent hadn't extended to his general athleticism it seemed, tragically.]
H-hey!
d. WILDCARD?
((ooc: Hit me with a starter of your own if you'd like, or prod me @ tinybro if you wanna plan somehong specific!))
Shuichi Saihara | OPEN + CLOSED PROMPTS
[It had seemed like a good choice of route for such a long while, too. Sure, days of walking through such hilly terrain wasn't exactly easy, but they'd gone five days without encountering any trouble. Given all the warnings they'd been given about the different paths, those quiet days of walking had been encouraging.
But of course, that fifth night had to turn everything to shit.
Right before all hell breaks loose, he's seated close to their campfire for the night, a small distance away from the bulk of the group as is his tendency when he doesn't have a Kaede or a Kaito around to drag him into being more social. The wave of dread that hits suddenly seems so irrational without any immediately obvious causes, but he can't shake the chill running down his spine or the sense that something awful is coming.
Which is about when he notices the sword he's been carrying around since waking up with it here. He's been keeping the thing tied to his belt with the most durable scrap of fabric he could find at the temple and otherwise generally ignoring it, but in the heavy shadows of the night and flickering firelight, it's hard not to see the white light just barely escaping from the crack between the hilt and sheath. Frowning, he tugs the katana out of the sheath and can only blink at the brightly glowing blade.]
Uh...
[What does he even say about something like that? "Hey guys, my sword is glowing for some reason"?? Kinda obvious. Any opportunity for comment he might have had is pretty immediately lost anyway, as a shrieking sound from overhead sounds as seemingly a cue for the ensuing chaos, startling him so badly that the sword practically jumps from his hands, clattering to the ground and across the stony ground like an oversized glowstick. And then everyone is up and yelling and running about and he's too easily jostled about in the commotion to quickly retrieve it. Shit.]
b. REVAN
[He'd expected to be less than useless with the katana. It's not like he's ever touched a sword in his life before waking up here, and carrying the thing around for a week didn't really count as any kind of training. He's surely more likely to accidentally hurt himself or someone else swinging the thing around without any real clue what he's doing.
And yet. When he pulls the sword from its sheath, it feels like he's been doing so all his life and just forgotten. One of the black cloaked things swoops in close with that aura of dread and cold, and when he strikes at it the movement is precise and controlled, slicing through tattered ends of fabric as the thing dodges away at the last moment before pulling back to a safer distance.
What the fuck.
He'd like that bewildered thought to be his only thought on this matter, but unfortunately, no. As wild as this seems at first, it's not the first he's heard of people being given amazing talents without them even realizing it. Thinking that this, whatever it is, could be more of the same, he feels faintly queasy in a way he knows he can't blame on the cloaked monsters.
Still. Whatever's going on, whatever his feelings on the situation are, this isn't the time for his normal overthinking. If it helps them all get out of this alive then he'll make use of it for now. Steeling himself, Shuichi lifts the blade again and sidesteps the monster as it darts in again, once again failing to do any damage but succeeding in fending it off. That's fine, he can work with that. He darts behind a ruined wall and then hurries around another, trying to lose the thing and regroup with the others he'd someone gotten separated from in the initial fray. He can feel it pursuing more than he can hear it, that dreadful aura far louder than its rattling gasps.]
c. BART AND LATER DIXON
[All this is so far out of his usual realm of expertise that he barely knows what to do. He's always been strategic and cool under pressure, but that's like...the pressure of impending deadlines, or even a hurried investigation before a trial with everyone's lives on the line. Pressure, potentially lethal pressure even, but it's still really not at all the same as a battlefield full of monsters and dark wizards slinging spells. This is frantic and fast-paced, more about quick thinking and fast reactions than strategy or whatever. He's pretty sure he'd be dead already if not for this new swordsman talent he's apparently been given.
But through it all, he can at least keep in mind that goal and grouping back up with everyone and from there...something. They could figure that could when they got to that point.
Up ahead, he spots a vaguely familiar figure. One of the other younger members of the group, someone he recognizes but hasn't talked to. But anyone is good right now. He hurries over, half-focused on keeping his footing on the hilly, sloping terrain with all its scattered rubble -- the swordsman talent hadn't extended to his general athleticism it seemed, tragically.]
H-hey!
d. WILDCARD?
((ooc: Hit me with a starter of your own if you'd like, or prod me @