Mercury falls to the stone floor with a soft ’whump’, not even bothering to try to take flight, instead deciding to stick to the considerably cooler floor—and deciding to stick to that decision even further when it hisses out something above him.

Yeah, fuck that. He's staying down here.

This is for three reasons: One, the mist is thicker near the bottom of the tunnel, granting him a much needed lack of visibility from the big fuck-off monster towering above him.

Two, he feels much better dealing with whatever the hell Crack had done with their body while running around in control down here, where it’s also considerably cooler.

Three, he has easy access to the beast’s legs. Although he doubts he can hit all six of them from here, at the very least, he can do a good bit of damage to one of them and make it harder for the monster to follow him.

So, determined to at least do their assailant a bit of damage before fucking off and never coming back to this tunnel again, he wing-walks towards the nearest available foot and readies another blast of heat.

When I speak.

When I think.

When a light puff of cold air comes out of his mouth instead of the firey blast of heat he’d expected, Mercury has time to think one word before the big kaiju’s foot comes up to swing into their chest.

I’m so fucked.

And then the big kaiju’s foot does come up and swing into their chest, and Mercury quickly finds himself flung into the air at a velocity he does not appreciate, twisting in the air just in time to stare directly into those dripping, too-sharp jaws.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—

Ignoring every instinct screaming in his head, at least one headmate who’s also screaming in his head—or, at least, screaming emotionally, their fear spiking alongside his—and the fact that he does not want this, Mercury snaps his wings open and flaps, as hard and as fast as he can, trying to ignore the stabbing pains from the wounds already given to him, dotted around his body, trying desperately to dodge those jaws of doom.

No no no no fuck this fuck this—

When I speak.

When I think.

Character: Orthoclase-Alpha Age: +3 (3 Cycles) Magic Level: +3 (Brawler) ROUND 1 Attempt: +13 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: +5 (bless you) Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +14 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: +7 Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: +18 Penalties: - Total: 63

Character: Umbra Age: +27 (27 Cycles) Magic Level: +3 (Pupil) ROUND 1 Attempt: +9 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: +7 Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +13 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: +1 Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: +2 Penalties: - Total: 62

WINNER: Orthoclase-Alpha

Too late—he’s not fast enough before the beast’s jaws go snap, sinking into flesh with what is now a familiar stab of pain, and Mercury continues to swear internally, struggling.

But—and this, he realizes with a sense of sharp horror—the stuff that was dripping from the thing’s jaws was clearly not just spit. No—this, he realizes, is something far worse.

Because he can feel a sense of creeping numbness spreading through his body, and as his wings seem to stop responding, the heaving of his chest as he takes frantic breaths seeming slower and distant, he knows for a fact that this fucking thing is venomous.

God—fucking damn it.

The monster gives a slow toss of its head, as if to check if he’s well and truly paralyzed, and Mercury finds himself cursing his fucking fate with half-hidden fear in his heart as the beast carries him to fuck knows where.

When I speak.

When I think.