[ Cinder's a bit more industrious than her re-spawning underlings, it seems. Thick shards of glass (is it glass?) form from the debris still left in the air. When they're sent barreling toward Jaune, Pyrrha doesn't hesitate. In a stricken panic, she momentarily forgets all about Amber and lets loose the shield once more. It only just gets there in time to protect him, unyielding to the heavy impact.
Unaffected, Cinder continues to move.
All sound seems to dissipate, giving an unearthly calm to the level.
Back to Amber. She's fighting hand to hand now, reddened and murky, no longer equipped for - how had Jaune put it? - ah, yes. Crowd control. She's desperate, she's scared. Pyrrha remembers all of this, feels it in her throat, like the feelings really were hers.
Back to Jaune. What is he doing? Can Pyrrha even protect him now? Why did she elect to come here unarmed in the first place? Was it out of some whimsical notion of pride, unwilling to let go of the weapons her mother had helped her forge all those years ago? Get points, get them back, be herself again. Not spend another minute feeling sorry for herself. Be worthy of him, for once. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.
Back to Mercury, Emerald. Why do they fight? Cinder was a liar, but they were her age. Their age. Becoming a Huntsman is understandable. Becoming a murderer is something else entirely.
Back to— back to -
The sound isn't really gone, Pyrrha realises. Her blood is just roaring too loudly, panic a pitch she had previously thought unreachable. All other traces of fear are whited out, so uncomprehensive and big that she blocks them out as a survival mechanism, lending her an eerie calm - (like when she had walked to her death the first time) - but it takes out sound, dumbs it down. Like an explosion inches away from her head, all she can make out is a faint ringing.
More than a second couldn't have past before Pyrrha started speaking, started and stopped.
Cinder gathers three arrows across her arm, lays them on her bowstring with all the efficiency of a practiced professional— ]
2 / 5
Unaffected, Cinder continues to move.
All sound seems to dissipate, giving an unearthly calm to the level.
Back to Amber. She's fighting hand to hand now, reddened and murky, no longer equipped for - how had Jaune put it? - ah, yes. Crowd control. She's desperate, she's scared. Pyrrha remembers all of this, feels it in her throat, like the feelings really were hers.
Back to Jaune. What is he doing? Can Pyrrha even protect him now? Why did she elect to come here unarmed in the first place? Was it out of some whimsical notion of pride, unwilling to let go of the weapons her mother had helped her forge all those years ago? Get points, get them back, be herself again. Not spend another minute feeling sorry for herself. Be worthy of him, for once. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.
Back to Mercury, Emerald. Why do they fight? Cinder was a liar, but they were her age. Their age. Becoming a Huntsman is understandable. Becoming a murderer is something else entirely.
Back to— back to -
The sound isn't really gone, Pyrrha realises. Her blood is just roaring too loudly, panic a pitch she had previously thought unreachable. All other traces of fear are whited out, so uncomprehensive and big that she blocks them out as a survival mechanism, lending her an eerie calm - (like when she had walked to her death the first time) - but it takes out sound, dumbs it down. Like an explosion inches away from her head, all she can make out is a faint ringing.
More than a second couldn't have past before Pyrrha started speaking, started and stopped.
Cinder gathers three arrows across her arm, lays them on her bowstring with all the efficiency of a practiced professional— ]