He wasn't really paying attention to what everyone else was doing, too busy thinking over and over what he was doing, planning each step meticulously in his mind. What spell to cast, how much to cast it, how high to fly, how loud to roar, things like that. If one of them failed...well, the next could pick up the slack. But if more then one failed...well, that wasn't going to happen.
When it was his turn, he stood up tall and turned, flattening down his groomed fur before stepping out, calmly and nobly, head proudly held high.
Eyes swept the spectators almost lazily until they came to rest on the judges. His confident, meaningful composure halted for a moment as he laid eyes on two of them. He recognized them, quite vividly - he would never forget a single detail of that day, for the rest of his life, and, incredibly, he gave both Pride and Aure a respectful bow.
As soon as the darkness hit, far bigger then he'd anticipated, Azrael made a switch in his tactics. There was no point in making himself invisible now - they wouldn't be able to see him anyways. No, time to change the game a little bit. Make it more dramatic.
He took a deep breath and willed heat to burn through his body, brightening his eyes and mouth, but nothing came. No light appeared, no warmth burned in his chest. He growled softly with frustration, but that was fine. He still had one chance left.
Azrael unfurled his wings - he'd done a lot of work strengthening them, to support his weight regularly. And, while it was tiring to fly freely for more then a few minutes, that was all he needed. He could do it and he would do it.
With a mighty flap, he lifted himself off the ground and immediately gained altitude, angling to begin flying through the darkness, above the heads of the spectators. He'd watched the carefully, judged the distance he could fly without making it dangerous. And his first bought of flame, anyways, would be aimed above their heads, so he could see where they were before letting off more.
Once he'd gained some speed, he let out a deafening roar and let out a blast of flame pointed upwards, breaking the darkness and illuminating him as he soared over the spectators. He watched downwards with all four glowing eyes, judging their exact distance before he snapped his jaws close to cut off the fire.
He soared for a couple more seconds before letting out another roar and letting loose another stream of fire from his jaws, lower down, so the watchers would be able to feel the heat of the fire. His throat was burning from all the fire, but he wasn't done yet. The flame went dark as he went in for a final loop
He roared for a last time as he went over the heads of the judges, flying behind them before releasing the rest of the fire just over their heads - far enough to be safe, low enough for them to be scared, if they would be. And he went soaring right into the fire, twisting around as he slammed onto the ground, facing the judges as the darkness began to thin.
He let out one final roar of victory once the darkness had cleared before turning and walking right out of the forum.
Forgraves had agreed to come with azrael to this magicka competition, and had waited eagerly while the others put on their displays. he wanted to learn how to use magic too, now, he wondered how azzy's would look, after a while.
the fire acts put him on edge, but he was fine. right?
azrael walked out and forgraves smiled brightly, so excited.
'I AM AZRAEL' he heard, padding in his seat in excitement, and then...
'I AM DARKNESS', and then everything went black, and his heart sunk in fear.
but then it didnt.
the darkness was quiet for a moment. he expected this to be terrifying, to remind him of the monarch, but no, it.. didnt. he didnt even like the dark usually anyway. yet somehow it was calming.
when the roaring began, and the flames shot across the area, he yelped in shock, but looked on in absolute amazement. he could see azrael flying, flying! the fire hot as all hell and even from his seat his could feel it, and oh boy was that something! it was amazing! a brilliant display of magic, beautiful, beautiful magic! from azzy!
as the darkness thinned and azrael was visible again, he let out a loud cheer, unashamed of his possible disruption. "THATS MY DAD!" he roared, hopping in place
from her father, one pointed breath — no, two. more stressed out than she'd thought. without moving otherwise, (had to be subtle, couldn't give him away,) the accipiter cut her gaze to the side. auré smiled through it, but he was watching the crowd that particular way ...
after that, another kid, right around the same age as the last. real different temperament, though. a boom of thunder, and damask snatched her head up, a little taken aback. not so strong on the finish; akaari's magic had been more reliable. still, for someone so young? not bad. sort of scary, actually. damask shifted her weight back and forth, eyes narrowed on auré in the closest she could get to a wink and a nudge:
which left ... azrael. "the grasp of the wretched," he was saying, and what might that mean?
she started, muzzle twisting this way and that to break through the shadows — to no avail; a swell of panic rose in her chest — and she drew in a breath, slow and measured, striking like flint at the knife in her ribs. the congregation lit up in red. heartbeats, heartbeats, everything in its right place. exhale. under her breath for the other judges:
the "that's my dad!" helped a little. damask straightened and smoothed her feathers, the picture of silent, unruffled composure. what was she supposed to say to that? and besides —
The competition had had some wonderful performances.
She was quiet, only soft praise as Gembound returned to the crowd. Though Azrael was... alarming, and she was concerned that he might enter her forest - or, in all honesty, approach any Gemling at all. The stag cowered low, fearing being set alight, but blessedly she was spared any such pains.
And then it was her turn, and carefully she unfolded her legs, standing and striding forward with all the grace afforded to her, beginning to stride circles as small plants, flower buds taking root on a stark black pelt.
So far, so good then. Her magic wasn't known for being the most reliable, so that was a great relief.
With a deep breath, she looked at the judges for just a moment, twitching her ears, and the flowers began to grow, began to blossom, first little bulbs and then unfolding, petals spreading wide, bright colors showing well against her dark fur.
Surely, though, she could do better than that?
The petals were a bit dull, not as bright as she knew they could be, and when growing flowers before she'd used the same spell to make them brighter, so why not try again? Artume would say what could be the harm, but... any magic user would know what exactly the harm could be.
Her magic reached out again, though the petals grew only barely brighter, spread only barely further. The dark stag inclined her head to the judges before moving back to her place in the crowd.
@Fisher
His head perked up as he noticed that Artume was shuffling back to the crowd, which meant... It was his turn! Cursing under his breath, he nudged the last bit into place, and pulled out a blue crystal from his leather bag (which would have to stay with the last piece of armor, no big deal--) and, glowing blue stone between his teeth, he scrambled up on to the makeshift stage.
Whew, this was gonna be a doozy. He set down the chunk of gemstone between his paws, and raised his head to survey the crowd. And what a crowd it was!
The stubby, long ferret-wolverine cross looking creature stood proud, scars marring every inch of his shaggy pelt. His cracked gem upon his back sparked, as he huffed through a jagged nose, and prepared himself for his speech. Auburn eyes burned upon the crowd, and then, his jaws parted to yowl out to the crowd.
Slowly, the chunks of metal surrounding Fisher began to fling through the air toward him. He rose on to his back feet, catching them as they came, slipping them into place as he formed an entire suit of armor, piece by piece. A couple were stuck where he had left them-- lodged too deeply in place-- but it was certainly more than enough to keep going.
And go on, he would.
and if I go out, i'll go out screaming ⚡⚡⚡
Fisher, clad in makeshift metal armor, half-adorned with blue crystals reminiscent of the Spire itself, could feel the electricity in the air. No. He was the electricity in the air! Standing with all four feet planted on the ground, he lashed his tail back and forth, letting the metal clink together.
Oh, he was really feeling this. He had never had so many eyes on him, and as his heart thrummed, his fur began to stand on end.
Sparks began to flicker from his fur to the metal, arcing across his body dangerously. Occasionally he felt a sharp zap as the electricity flickered down his legs into the ground, but he could only grin from ear to ear as he turned into a massive ball of energy. His cracked gemstone sparked and hissed behind his ears.
The crystals adorning his armor began to crackle, their blue glow intensifying.
With a roar, he rose up on his hind feet, and then pounced down on the crystal he had carried in, grasping it with his claws. With a
Grand finale time.