[ It has to be you, he says. He didn't strictly need to say it - although she had played at ignorance, she knew what he was thinking. They've always known what the other is thinking in these sorts of situations, which is why her fingers had shook as she had attached them to his sleeve.
This, though? It's the sort of responsibility she was working towards, what she would have accepted someday. To go from still learning, to being struck down, to being responsible for all these lives...
Roughly, she swallows. It's not enough to choke down her fear.
Jaune, though. He's here, still believing her after how badly she let him down. Through every step of this uneven journey past her death, he's been there. If she lets something happen to him now -- staring up at him, her mouth closes on the protest she never voiced. Her mouth takes to a firm line, her decision needing no words. Slowly, Pyrrha looses her grip on his sleeve, standing on her own. ]
This is... nothing.
[ It's muttered for herself. She had fought a Maiden of the seasons and only been defeated when a reinforcement joined the battle. She had burned alive from the inside and is still standing.
Taking a step back, she anchors her feet to the car floor. Superficially, she still feels worn out, remembering the exact moment Cinder's attacks had cost her the ward of her own aura - but, forcing herself to look past that, there's her mother's voice, soft but clear, explaining the elegance of aura with such surpassing grace that Pyrrha herself could only hope to emulate, telling her that strength without hope and kindness was meaningless.
Pyrrha remembers, and Pyrrha begins to glow. Compared to his aura, it's dim, nearly cheap. A functioning scroll would be blinking red and telling her to move to a defensive strategy. Compared to yesterday's nothing, though, none of that matters.
Fists clenching, her muscles cord with the effort. The black shadows that mark her semblance seem to curl around her like flames. The train pushes and she feels like she's pushing back.
Beneath their feet, there'a a faint screeching. It's slowing down.
In a few seconds, she'll have it stopped entirely. ]
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This, though? It's the sort of responsibility she was working towards, what she would have accepted someday. To go from still learning, to being struck down, to being responsible for all these lives...
Roughly, she swallows. It's not enough to choke down her fear.
Jaune, though. He's here, still believing her after how badly she let him down. Through every step of this uneven journey past her death, he's been there. If she lets something happen to him now -- staring up at him, her mouth closes on the protest she never voiced. Her mouth takes to a firm line, her decision needing no words. Slowly, Pyrrha looses her grip on his sleeve, standing on her own. ]
This is... nothing.
[ It's muttered for herself. She had fought a Maiden of the seasons and only been defeated when a reinforcement joined the battle. She had burned alive from the inside and is still standing.
Taking a step back, she anchors her feet to the car floor. Superficially, she still feels worn out, remembering the exact moment Cinder's attacks had cost her the ward of her own aura - but, forcing herself to look past that, there's her mother's voice, soft but clear, explaining the elegance of aura with such surpassing grace that Pyrrha herself could only hope to emulate, telling her that strength without hope and kindness was meaningless.
Pyrrha remembers, and Pyrrha begins to glow. Compared to his aura, it's dim, nearly cheap. A functioning scroll would be blinking red and telling her to move to a defensive strategy. Compared to yesterday's nothing, though, none of that matters.
Fists clenching, her muscles cord with the effort. The black shadows that mark her semblance seem to curl around her like flames. The train pushes and she feels like she's pushing back.
Beneath their feet, there'a a faint screeching. It's slowing down.
In a few seconds, she'll have it stopped entirely. ]