#onethunderthrow

@onethunderthrow​

It’s a lovely late summer day on a less-inhabited beach in the Golden Ward, and... something a bit too much like a body tumbled ashore.

He’s more smoke than fire when he initially surfaces but he’s annoyed enough that the saltwater steams off rapidly, trudging back to where he left a few things- his pauldron, mostly, his phone resting inside of it. After it’d been crunched in half during the island catastrophe, he’d gotten in the habit of leaving his cuirass behind, and while he’s lighter without it, he feels more exposed.

Mostly, though, he’s miffed, shooting another look back towards the whirlpools faintly visible at this angle. Swimming isn’t exactly a skill he commands, but the idea of paying to get stuck in transport just for the sake of finding out what was down there- it couldn’t be that hard. He’d gotten just about everywhere back ‘home’, hadn’t he? Spirale couldn’t be more of a challenge.

And, yet, here he was, partially covered in seaweed, having a one-sided glare-down with the ocean. The flames of his ‘head’ flick and curl, slowly drying his clothes, but he’s not making any progress.

Emphatically, he extends a middle finger seaward, and crouches to pick up his one remaining piece of armor before he realizes someone witnessed most of that.

     “The glass blown souvenirs are quite interesting to look at.      I had no idea such things could be created from glass in such      a way.”

─ ○ 💚☕ ;     She choose the safest isle possible. Oriko knew she did. So why was she in the one that seemed to taken straight out of a horror movie?

Though her powers were limited, they still proved useful no matter how minor it was; perhaps Oriko had to rely a bit too much on it, even if she couldn’t see more than a brief scene for the time being. The gloomy, dark atmosphere of the facility was suffocating -- a witch’s barrier was horrifying, yes, and so was this place, albeit in a completely different way. Twisted, but not surreal enough. The flickering lights made it all much harder to navigate through the facilities, and whatever was lurking in the darkness made noises that just felt so wrong. 

If Oriko were to find one them, she knew that she could hardly fight back. I shouldn’t ask whether it’d get worse, now do I?

[ Welcome to Operation SHORE: Surviving Hazards Of Relaxing Escapes! Please choose your island destination: ] 

Relaxing? She almost wanted to laugh; this was a nightmare, plain and simple. If Oriko’s opinion on the headmasters of Spirale was already ‘wary’, then it surely went downhill fast. The sleeping quarters had proven to be a safe haven, but for how long? Well, she wasn’t alone, and thank god it wasn’t one of those monsters that wandered the halls, lest she’d be found in a dire situation.

[ ⭐ • txt ] —— look forward to seeing you! we’re gonna rock!

Steven sent the text as he unlocked the front door. He was holding his first audition today for his band, and he was so excited that he’d had trouble focusing in class. He was just so ready to see what kinda jams everyone would bring.

He hurried to set up the space they were going to use. All of the living room furniture was moved out of the way with plenty of space to set up instruments. He got his complimentary drinks and snack, and his clipboard for making notes.

A familiar voice would have been a comfort had it come from... well, not literally anyone else, but nearly anyone else.

It was the Slayer that had passed out upon reaching his training grounds on the mountain. He hadn’t really fallen unconscious as much as he had just become overwhelmed at the idea of the Stone Pillar’s training regimen and stopped responding out of what Gyomei could only assume was apprehension, or some other advanced form of a tantrum. If he had truly passed out, he wouldn’t have leapt out of the river so quickly after having been tossed in.

Gyomei knew the kind of person he was, unfortunately. Motivated to do his job as a Slayer not because they felt it was the right thing to do but because of some obligation– to a family member or a trainer or someone else. Complaining every step of the way. But he’d also heard about how that same boy had fought from Uzui. Perhaps the two qualities could be reconciled... maybe.

@theaterofmisfits​

✧*:･ﾟ| THE chill freezes him down to the very marrow of his bones. Siebren gasps, a quiet and shuddering sound, as if breathing is harsh, as if his lungs have CRYSTALIZED, Gloved palms, clad in armour they are, clutch at his chest. The armour which helps to keep him alive, harsh now that it's frozen. As much as he hates to keep his toes covered, he's not stupid, but as he huddes up, Siebren wonders if this isn't a POINTLESS EFFORT. Head tilts, looking upward at the approaching figure. Puffs of air exhaled sharply, visible breaths — he's thankful to see Zenitsu, with an ounce of guilt towards seeming to be so WEAK. Oh, would the younger one feel resentment, that he's to assist such an old man like this!