She hadn't stayed to listen to the placements. As soon as her own performance was complete, she'd left. It didn't matter - she hadn't placed, no way. Not after that. And she was too wrapped up in her own fear to care for anything else.
*Exit
Mercurius smiled warmly and let that gentle feeling stretch along their link. His eyes spotted the stag moving towards him, so he rocked up to his feet and started to weave through as well. All the while, he murmured in response, "I thought it might be nice if we did." A gentle laugh. "Perhaps we could be a traveling act."
Working to uphold his end, the pale beast openly imagined what that show might entail. Dazzling displays of light, telekinetic prowess presented to all the Caves. Perhaps they could invite Svartis to lend his ice, Sebastian and Azrael their fire, Fisher his lighting... all the elements clashing in a beautiful display.
Moonlit eyes were creased in a Duchenne smile as he strode up to the pale stag and walked alongside him, chattering idly.
exit mercurius
@Pride for visibility
Fisher's path was cut off by a short (still towering over him) fuzzy furry critter, with long messy hair and bright eyes, and even as he stopped in his steps, something was weirdly... uh... familiar about the stranger. His caramel eyes searched that face as Hunter struggled to speak without sounding like a dog chomping down on a chew toy.
My dad. Fisher was a rather... adventurous noodle, don't get him wrong-- but for a split second he actually had the thought that he only had one kid, and it was Ashtoreth.
And then reality hit him like a brick wall.
One drunk night-- and hey, he didn't really regret it-- basically four cycles prior, before he had nearly beefed it in a trial to the death, and could anyone really blame him for forgetting? He had spent like, a whole dang cycle in itself recuperating from nearly getting buried in an avalanche, swallowed whole by a massive snow worm, and turning himself into a transformer.
Silence stretched awkwardly for one, two, three seconds. Hunter just smiled at him, offering two hand-paws out to him. Then, his ears twitched up, and he grinned, fanged tusks gnashing together.
"Oh, heyyy! Nice to finally meet'cha, kiddo! You would not believe how busy I've been, but hey, hey. It's a pleasure, real nice." The words came quickly, all too easily brushing back Hunter as his brain went into flight or fight mode. "Come'on, come with me, I got something for you."
;; exit fisher......................... it's gonna be fiiiiiiine
Madhukar didn't need to stay for a superfluous amount of time. No amount of praise could've saved her from the confusion. From the subsequent ANGER. No one could've stopped her reaction, her fast boiling emotions, her oncoming storm. The moment that last act had failed her, that was the moment her heart had gone underneath the darkest clouds. It would have to travel miles before it got back out from underneath the beating and the bashing of crashing rain, booming thunder, lightning racing across, tracing shapes in the sky as though a thread deftly pulled along by a needle.
And recognizing members in the crowd didn't help. She was not going to stick around for any twisted fool's hazing. She might just explode, herself and everyone around. And she didn't. Want. That.
Not yet.
Her magic grasped onto her emotions, tried to reach out... but another clamoring crash of different internal storms must've stifled it with a sock. No more magic. Not now.
She'd have to find some place to hide...
- exit -
The chicken was gone. But there there was the sound of distant tapping. Rapidly growing closer and closer, as if a monstrous, stalking creature. And then Kalama burst from one of the tunnels. Charging at the judges at Mach speed, eyes aflame. Puffed further than she'd been before. Tail straight up to the sky. And everyone was leaving. Before she'd had her time in the limelight.
"I deserved that win! Screw your magicka competition, and your dumb, stupid, no good, dumb rules. It deserved to be ME. Whatever, I'll be in the wrestling competition and the obstacle course, and I'll win then!" With a growl, the chicken whipped around, scraping up dirt with each footstep. To the extreme it had to have been intentional.
think "speak"
;exit angy chiken