[ There's heat in his chest, pressure. Not pain. He fights through it, recovers his stance in time to see the flash of blue, to hear Drake's voice.
Oh. Fuck.
The cat doesn't attack. It stares at Drake like it knows him or feels something from him, some recognition or whatever the fuck is going on with this bullshit, and Ephemera swings the blade and takes its head straight off.
He presses a hand to his stomach. It comes away wet. And the whole squad just got a first-hand view of Drake's power. ]
Shit.
[ This could get complicated. Ephemera lowers the blade but keeps it ready, his weight evenly spread as the other fighters get in closer. ]
no subject
Oh. Fuck.
The cat doesn't attack. It stares at Drake like it knows him or feels something from him, some recognition or whatever the fuck is going on with this bullshit, and Ephemera swings the blade and takes its head straight off.
He presses a hand to his stomach. It comes away wet. And the whole squad just got a first-hand view of Drake's power. ]
Shit.
[ This could get complicated. Ephemera lowers the blade but keeps it ready, his weight evenly spread as the other fighters get in closer. ]
Drake, you good?