[ it's not like subtlety is his strong point, but after hours piling on hours of uncomfortable immobility, he can't help shaking out his arms as the spell recedes, balling his hands into fists and then opening them. there's a slash across his forearm from the now dead achamite guard, but even that bleeding pain feels better than the pins and needles of turning to stone.
of course his attention turns to the bars of his cell. why wouldn't it? if the kenoma are really going to underestimate him so far as to actually let him loose (as good as), then even a warning from
a barely familiar voice actually,
isn't enough to stop him from taking the chance as he sees it. what, is he supposed to just sit in this cell like a good boy until misa returns? just let these people cart him off to achamoth to be killed or tortured or used by their regent?
of course not.
so she suggests he not act rashly, and he doesn't answer. or, rather, his answer is this: the wisps of burning light and reeking darkness that swirl around him as he opens himself to the Power, visible to those who'd been able to use magic even before becoming aions. the Power swells around him before he throws out his arms, going to stand (going to run), and splits into three weaves: the ball of fire that appears between his palms and shoots out directly at his jailer, the one that gathers around the cell's lock to wrench it apart, and the battering force at the door to throw it open. if he can get her to dodge, be distracted; if he can get out of the cell and escape — ]
no subject
of course his attention turns to the bars of his cell. why wouldn't it? if the kenoma are really going to underestimate him so far as to actually let him loose (as good as), then even a warning from
a barely familiar voice actually,
isn't enough to stop him from taking the chance as he sees it. what, is he supposed to just sit in this cell like a good boy until misa returns? just let these people cart him off to achamoth to be killed or tortured or used by their regent?
of course not.
so she suggests he not act rashly, and he doesn't answer. or, rather, his answer is this: the wisps of burning light and reeking darkness that swirl around him as he opens himself to the Power, visible to those who'd been able to use magic even before becoming aions. the Power swells around him before he throws out his arms, going to stand (going to run), and splits into three weaves: the ball of fire that appears between his palms and shoots out directly at his jailer, the one that gathers around the cell's lock to wrench it apart, and the battering force at the door to throw it open. if he can get her to dodge, be distracted; if he can get out of the cell and escape — ]