OPEN: turn off the lights and I'll glow

[faderifting]

WHO: New rifters & characters in Emprise du Lion
WHAT: More people falling on ice than usual, this time with demons, templars, and bonus nighttime
WHEN: Guardian 23
WHERE: Emprise du Lion
NOTES: This month, the arrival log is open to all.

You were asleep--deeply or fitfully, for the last time or just resting your eyes for a moment-- and then you were not. And wherever you were was not, anymore, replaced by nothing but the sensation of falling, tumbling into endless, bottomless nothing. If this were still a dream, you would wake before you hit the ground. You can't die in a dream, they say. In some worlds.

But there's no waking here, just a flare of green-white light and a jarring impact onto freezing stone or ice that is twice as cold and just as hard. When your breath returns and the light's after-image fades from your eyes you will find yourself beneath a dark sky, a full moon straining to be seen through intermittent clouds, and a second moon low on the horizon. Its light reflects off snow to add an eerie ambient glow to the darkness, made stranger by the sickly green tint added by the fluttery menacing shape of the rift hanging in mid-air. Be careful getting up: you are at the edge of a cliff, what was once a waterfall now frozen solid in a massive curling sheet of icicles. The drop to the bottom is several stories, surely a deadly fall even without the huge humps and spikes of ice and snow that litter the ground where splash and spray were petrified.

You are also not as you were: in the palm of your left hand there glows a narrow splinter of light the same sickly green as whatever brought you here. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions. Like the fact that you're being attacked by monsters--some tall, spindly stick-things with too many eyes, some hunched and hooded with no eyes at all. Some are entirely different but perhaps more monstrous for it: men and women in heavy, gleaming armor, all of them with chunks of red crystal protruding out in a way you soon realize indicates it is actually growing out of their skin. Their eyes are a dull red, hollow and empty, and they attack with a single-minded determination.

Luckily, you are not on your own. Around you others are waking up, equally confused, with the same green lights flaring from their hands. There is stuff scattered about, like the contents of someone's life exploded through the rift with them: a picnic table and benches upended, metal camp furniture flung about, clothes and utensils, bits of wood and canvas and mattress littering the ground. Even better, you are not far from a path leading toward an Inquisition camp, and noise travels far in this terrain, echoing up canyons and off cliffsides, carried by the chill night wind. Help is on its way; just last until it arrives.

Comments

[bookish_lioness]

Flashes of green light were never a good sign for anyone who'd ever lived through a wizarding war.

It explained why Hermione had immediately decided that she was having a nightmare and decided not to fight it, expecting to fall into wakefulness and have Ginny mumble something about how she needs to stop talking in her sleep. Instead of her soft bed in her dormitory, however, she landed hard on something cold, the wind getting knocked out of her even as she realized that she shouldn't be able to feel intense pain in a dream.

She tried to get up on all fours, but there was no traction under her feet, and she realized that she'd landed on ice. In the middle of... woodland? And there was something green shining in her hand and it hurt and there were strange-looking monsters and if this was a dream she needed to wake up right now.

One dilemma at a time, she decided, and searched around her for her wand even as she locked eyes (were those eyes?) with something large and gaunt and terrifying. Hearing a screech coming somewhere within the gaggle of creatures, it was more than obvious that even the vaguely humanoid ones among them weren't intent on being friendly, and she was relieved to finally crawl across the ice and wrap her fingers around her wand. "Confringo!" she cried, fully expecting the Blasting Curse to cause enough of an explosion to knock the charging creature back and perhaps even rend through the surface of the ice to help take care of the others.

... unfortunately, she didn't notice that the tip of her wand had been crushed, a bit of the core protruding from it. Instead of blasting outwards, the damaged wand sent her skidding hard across the ice, the force strong enough to send her rolling over the bank and onto the hard ground. It was a good thing a tree so generously decided to gently stop her progress (except it wasn't gentle, not at all).

On the one hand, she hadn't fallen over the cliff that she still hadn't noticed. On the other hand, the dazed young witch had attracted more attention than she could currently handle. And on the other hand... well, she could definitely use more hands, with or without glowing green shards embedded in them.

[aintwejust]

Walk'n a dog to do it's business away from the center of camp ain't much fun when the weather's good and the sun's high. In the piss black of night beyond the camps on the foutu frozen outskirts? When said dog won't do his damn business for anything less Mal found him just the right kinda bush or the right kinda smelly rock and it's cold 'nuf he feels like his nose was 'bout to fall off?

Even less fun. Mal didn't much think it could get worse from that- unless demons, maybe. Them shiny templars. A rift-

The sudden, visceral pain in his glow'n hand and the snap of Jayne's head when a familiar (and he did hate that it was gett'n familiar) flare of green near the cliff kicked up spill'n out demons, shiny templars and other folk likely mind'n their own damn business? He shouldn't be surprised. Every chance this place had to get worse, it took. 'least Jayne did his damn business before lean'n into the firm, hard posture of a warhound like's proper instead of the usual lazy roll'n about he did. Mal didn't much need that question'n growl to hike up his spear and nod. He got this damn thing to close those and hound to kill demons. "Lets go be good guys. Git."

Jayne sprinted for the spindly thing com'n up on what looked like a girl and Mal? Ran best he could on the ice, crackl'n shard in his hand mak'n hold'n onto his spear a bitch but not impossible. Where man would needa li'l more time to close the distance, Mabari made in short time, slamming into the demon's side with a snarling growl.

[bookish_lioness]

Hermione tried propping herself up, but between the pain and the disorientation and the myriad of distractions, she'll have to be excused if she can't quite manage it. Holding her hand up in defense, she got sidelined by the fact that the green in her hand matched up with the strange green cloud just above the monsters; it looked like a suspended Killing Curse, which wasn't a comfort when the thing was lodged in her hand.

Before she could worry too much about whether she was dying a slow and painful death, a much more immediate threat of death loomed in front of her, only to get tackled by what looked like either a very large dog or a wolf. A dog would be a comfort; dogs are domesticated, so that would mean there were people around. Wolves, though? That would just mean that there was something else out here that might eat her.

And then out came a man with a spear, and Hermione was just going to have to assume, based on the fact that he was aiming it at the monster and not at her, that he was intending something resembling a rescue. For one man to think he could take on numerous opponents who weren't even human, he either had to be insane or a Gryffindor... or very, very optimistic.

Managing to crawl enough so that she could put the tree she'd crashed against between herself and the madness in front of her, she held her wand in front of her and cried out, "What are these things?" If she knew what they were, she might know what their weaknesses were, which meant she'd know what spell to use.

Because obviously, using magic will totally turn out all right the second time around. Clearly. Which was why there was someone running around using a bloody spear, of all things.

After the rift is closed

[gatheringstorm]

Relatively nearby when the rift erupted, Korrin acted swiftly and decisively upon seeing the demons and rifters emerge. She'd wasted no time in putting up defensive barriers and drawing the demons to her with shouts, explosions and other uses of magic. Her spirit blade saw liberal use, tearing through demons as quickly as she could manage. At least Vivienne's teachings were being put to good use, and she couldn't ask for more than that.

When there are no demons left to slay, the Vashoth mage will be pacing the area, offering healing potions to those who need it. She'll also be peering around with some puzzlement, as there's quite a lot of gear that's traveled with the rifters this time. Looking over the picnic table and other camp furniture, along with other far less familiar items, she just raises an eyebrow. "...the fuck?"

But, yes. Her main priority will be guiding rifters back to camp and answering the usual questions.

[aintwejust]

"Demons!" Malcolm came in hard and fast, piercing the rickety torso of the demon Jayne hadn't tackled, giv'n the girl (and she was just a girl, little whisp of a thing all wide eyes and wild hair and not foutu again-) time and a little room. Went clean through with how he leaned into it after the runn'n, gave him leverage to plant his feet and haul it up and over, fling'n it off into that great yawn'n abyss just on the other side of the sparse treeline. Cliff. He hated cliff fight'n.

Here he was, fight'n on a cliff.

"Joints don't hold up too good if you can make 'em go boom, mind the ledge- JAYNE!" The dog finished tearing at the throat of target A and perked up, ears and eyes locked on the mass of Demons and- aw damn- shiny Templars wander'n their way. "Recueillir!"

With a bark and an enthused tail wag Jayne did what he was told, haul'n round to weave through the mess, circle them up while Mal patted at his belt. He'd grabbed one of the damn things as a test and knew, kinda, how to use 'em. Pull the pin, count, throw. How long was he supposed'ta count again? Three? Five? Shit.

[qunari]

Time to give these bastards something more their speed to contend with.

"Damn...demons!" The growl comes from nearby a second before a presence comes roiling over the snow, thick and heavy and red. It's enough to call the attention of those at the fringe at first, seconds before an over-sized axe comes swinging through the air, smashing into their flank.

The Qunari certainly makes a bigger target than the girl at the base of the tree, and he only intends to make himself bigger, head lowered and stance firm as he lifts the weapon again. A snort causes the cold air to come out in a cloudy huff from flared nostrils. Doubtless the new Rifter won't see much difference between him and monsters.

Except maybe that he's willing to stand between her and them.

"Come on, you want a piece of this? Come get it!"

[bookish_lioness]

Despite having gone through a war and seeing her fair share of death and destruction, Hermione had seen precious little in the way of physical combat. The worst of it had been seeing a giant snake sink its fangs into her victims, and those instances had counted as among the most horrible she'd ever experienced. So seeing a spear go through something before it was dropped off a cliff - and oh, look at that, she could have fallen off the side of a cliff, so that was something to add onto the ever-growing list of dangers she was currently trying to process....

Focus, focus. She tried starting off simply, seeing if maybe that will make a difference even after she noticed the inconsistencies in her wand that indicated that it was broken. It was all right, it wasn't as bad as Ron's had been back in second year, and he'd still managed to more or less work around it.

Hoping she wouldn't end up casting another misfired spell and end up retching slugs on top of everything else, she aimed at one of the hooded figures that seemed to be floating out of the loose circle the dog seemed to be attempting to make. "Stupefy!"

Well... on the bright side, that was a red flash, which was supposed to happen. She just didn't get to see if it had any effect on her target, given that she staggered back as though pushed, taking a hard pratfall and crying out forlornly, tears of frustration attempting to make their way down her face while she was still trying to deal with figuring everything else out.

[bookish_lioness]

If there's a difference between this new arrival and any of the others that had been here before, it's that this giant horned individual is capable of speech. Or, at least, could be bothered to actually use his words, rather than mindlessly shriek and lunge and otherwise behave as a feral beast. So ultimately? She'll assume that means he's the one less likely to attempt to rip her to shreds.

Granted, that doesn't mean he isn't violent, and she jumps in shock at the initial blow of his axe, scrambling back a little to attempt to put the tree between her and her possible rescuer, just in case he ultimately decides against a proper rescue. As intimidating as he might be, it doesn't seem to deter the demons, if that's what they are. Seeing a hooded figure blasting something in their general direction, she makes the quick decision to act now and simply ask questions later. Assuming there is a later.

"Protego!" she calls out as she jumps to her feet, already preparing herself for the spell to backfire as her first one had. Instead, she feels an unfamiliar push back as whatever magic had been flung at her stops just in front of her. It doesn't seem to be bouncing back, though, and she has the distinct impression that not focusing entirely on the barrier is going to see to it that she gets an unpleasant surprise, leaving her feeling - for the moment, at least - utterly helpless. And open, since they're outnumbered. Brilliant.

[aintwejust]

Three? It'd been three. He pulled the pin, counted, "Un, deux, trois-"

And hurled it into the center of that loose circle. Not much but it'd be a start. Somth'n for oil- slick with grease even on the skittering ice and shortly thereafter again. Pin. Count. Throw.

Crackling fire. Sure it meant runn'n in there was a shit idea but it kept them occupied long 'nuf for him to try and help the girl. The sudden flare of bright red something behind him had Mal dropping to the ground- flares like that meant magic, meant blood, meant death- but none of the above came roll'n on through. Just a girl on the ground cry'n and a shade hover'n in a wild circle, scrap'n at it's own face.

Huh.

"Jayne-" But the mabari was already round'n back, busy with shov'n demons and templars and the like back into the fire to make the most of it till the cold and the wind blew the damn mess out. Swearing under his breath Mal staggered to his feet and sprinted, spear braced against his shoulder like a joust'n lance (he done that too in the Marches, good money, less demons), and hurled himself in one beautiful (debatable) motion to pin the damn thing to the ground. Took a bit of a leap and the land'n wasn't too pretty but he got the thing by the arm and got it pinned to the ice. Mostly.

Would help if his legs hadn't gone out under him but beggars, choosers, he managed. "Y'all right?"

[thelastking]

If it wasn't for the pain, Aragorn would've just assumed this to be a dream.

Dazed and disoriented, Aragorn was up on his feet within seconds. He couldn't make out what's happening but the telltale signs of battle gave it away. The ranger doesn't have time to think when something lunged at him. He quickly kicked the creature off him and reached for the spare dagger he keeps at his boot. When the beast struck again, Aragorn stabbed it right in the neck. It's a messy kill. Blood spewed forth coating the icy ground in crimson. Aragorn was given a brief reprieve before another monster charged at him. He's quick to avoid the incoming blade but his dagger is still lodged in the other beast's neck.

The odds were against him here. Without a proper sword to defend himself, the ranger was outmatched. That's why he hurried to find one.

The monster on his tail was a relentless one. Now that Aragorn could get a better look at it, he could tell it's no Orc. It certainly could be confused for an Orc judging from the foul stench and even fouler grin but something about it seems more humanlike than Orc. Not having much time to dwell on that thought, Aragorn found a dented sword upon the battlefield. He quickly lunged for the sword and struck the monster. The creature managed to parry it with its own jagged blade but Aragorn's clever. He quickly drew his sword back and stomped on the monster's foot. The beast let out a scream that's instantly replaced with gurgling once Aragorn's sword made its mark. He then shoved the fiend aside and takes a breath.

This is no dream.

[qunari]

The plan isn't to intimidate, but draw their focus. The second one of them launches an attack at her, Bull shifts his stance and moves after the creature with a vengeance. One wide, sweeping swing follows into another, and for a second standing within five feet becomes an exercise in just how many times that blade cuts a swath into their foes.

The demons don't bleed. They shriek and fade into greenish mist. But the templars stagger, red crystals scattering to the snow in a mockery, and move forward with more than just animal instinct. These were men, and men skilled in taking on magic.

He'd just as soon they not reach her. But he can't hold them all at once.

"I'd move it, if I were you!" he grunts, before fending off the blade of one of the templars, parrying the blow and knocking his pommel back into his helmet with a sickly crunch.

[wontforgetyou]

One thing that could be said for having a shard stuck in you was that it wasn't hard to tell when a rift was about to spring open. Even without being in a position to get a good look at what was happening to the sky, the flare of light from his hand and the painful crackle of energy was impossible to miss - and the moment he felt it, he was on the move, pausing only long enough to grab up his sword and run towards the rift.

By the time he got there, a good chunk of the demons had already been taken down, but he could still see the hunched and hooded figures of the shades as they drifted towards the people who'd fallen from the rift. Worse still where the figures in armor, red crystals protruding from in places where no crystal should be. Whatever had happened to bring the red templars to the same place as the rift, Jamie had no idea, but it wasn't good. Any thoughts he might have has on that were going to have to wait, though. First things first, though, he needed to sort them out, and a moment later there was a shout of "Creag an tuire!" from his direction as he flung himself into the fray.

The next little while became a bit of a blur as he fought, his sword flashing through the air, his blows aiming for whatever vulnerable spots he could find. It was only by luck that he happened to the glimmer of another shard, this one belonging to what looked like a wee slip of a girl, one he didn't recognize. Maybe she could fight, or maybe she couldn't, but if she was new she had more than enough to deal with right now, and as far as he was concerned the best thing to do was get between her and the enemy so he keep them off her as best as he could. Well, that and try and get her to get out of the way, which would make that part of things much easier, and he pivoted in her direction, kilt flaring out slightly with the movment - something he didn't even seem to notice as he called out in her direction.

"Here, get behind me!"

[bookish_lioness]

All Hermione knew, at this point, was that she couldn't let go of her wand, because even though it didn't seem to be worth anything in this dream or nightmare or whatever it was, it was the only thing that made her feel even vaguely in control of anything. Because otherwise, none of this was making any sense. The war was over, she'd been sleeping, and suddenly there were monsters and a man with a strange accent and a dog and a fire....

Hand trembling, she eventually managed to climb to her feet, leaning heavily against a tree as she looked everywhere to make sure there was nothing coming up behind her. "Wh- what are-...?" Oh. She'd asked that already.

Too concerned to stray too far from the tree and leave her back open, she looked at the man who'd helped her, trying not to shake. She hadn't been this frightened since the Battle of Hogwarts, and even then, Death Eaters had at least been a familiar danger.

"Where did they come from? Why are they-...? I'm sorry, I don't understand!"

Her hand was aching, and it wasn't the one that was clenched around her wand. It was the one that was shining brightly, the same color as that strange hole in the sky, and that was not helping with her sense of panic.

[bookish_lioness]

The moment the large man with the equally-large axe gets rid of the demons, Hermione stumbles forward a little, the barrier no longer keeping anything back. They'd... disappeared. Like ghosts.

But not all of them.

The things that look like they might have been human once upon a time are probably the absolutely worst things she's seen in a while, and that's saying something. When one of them charges for her, she momentarily forgets that her wand is broken and makes a foolish attempt to Apparate at least further down the path away from all this ice and madness... only to end up staggering just outside the fray, close enough that she can feel the whoosh of air as something races past her to try and get into the thick of the fighting.

Well. She'd at least managed to momentarily evade the thing that had been coming at her. Now she just happens to be practically in the middle of the rest of them, close enough that she can probably climb the horned man like a tree until she figures out how to get her wand to do something right.

Given the scream of the monster closest to her, she decides to turn and run before she ends up being tempted to do just that.

[bookish_lioness]

Gryffindors were supposed to be brave. And they were. But they were also human, subject to becoming overwhelmed and confused and not being stupid. Hermione was definitely prone to becoming overwhelmed and confused, and she was certainly not stupid.

There was something wrong with her wand, and her usual magical energy felt scattered and weak, and for some reason, it felt absolutely draining, despite the fact that she was casting spells she'd known since she was eleven or twelve. And she wasn't even casting them correctly, which was what had really gotten her in trouble here.

She hadn't escaped unscathed, though all things considered, a few scratches and scrapes was hardly as bad as it could have been. Still, she could very easily get much worse than that if she wasn't careful, and she was running out of the stamina to keep being careful.

So as more and more people joined the fray and one of them even went so far as to offer himself up as a shield of sorts, she found that she was too smart to let her pride put up a fuss as she fell back, grabbing onto the stranger's arm as she barely looked him over. He seemed young and not nearly as hardy as some of the others who were fighting, but then, Harry didn't exactly look like much of a champion, either, all things considered.

"Be careful!" she panted out, still trying to keep a barrier up and just barely succeeding. It wasn't keeping her enemies away from her, but it was at least keeping the majority of their blows from falling. "There are so many of them!"

[qunari]

Having her out of range does mean he can be a little less cautious with his swings. As soon as she's a good distance away he turns back to the red templars with a savage grin. Demons creeped him out, but men? Men fell like any others, even if they were lyrium-riddled and monstrous.

One blade scores a hit against his blind side, but all that does is fuel that rage, fanning the flames and funneled into his next blow. One more scar isn't going to matter as long as they rid the world of a few more of these assholes.

Then there's the girl to consider. After the fight. Can't let his guard down. Focus.

For the handful that remain, he seems to be taking them on pretty well all on his own. One of the templars has noticed that blind spot, however, and seems to be trying to flank him in the process...

[eviscerates]

OPEN. ( might end up being a bit timey wimey because of canon bro shenanigans but :Db )
The plus side is that she landed on a mattress before her momentum tossed her onto the ice. The negatives, however, would be that she was tossed onto the ice, lands back-first on she the thinks might be a gas canister, and doesn't really have a whole lot of time to process this chain of events and how much it does not match her expected outcome of using a magic bean to get back to the Enchanted Forest, because it looks like a ball of fire is moving towards someone else. Or a... blob of fire. Something firey, okay, that is the point here, something firey and dangerous is going towards someone, and so Red does what any sensible person would do, and throws the closest item to hand at it.

Which is, incidentally, a spatula. "Hey!"

It's enough to grab the thing's attention, and she suddenly wishes that she had her bow and arrows, here, and not just a dagger. She's not too sure how the Wolf would go if she hurled herself at something on fire either, but hey. She can figure that out in a moment, after she picks up a frying pan and throws that, too, to try and get the other person on the ice out of the line of fire (so to speak). At least her aim is still great.

"Hey, jackass, over here."

Ah, yes. One (1) woman dressed in a red brocade cloak, a peasant blouse and bodice and full skirts that seem in place enough for Thedas but maybe aren't quite right, and one of her red leather gloves is torn, revealing a glow at her palm that she hasn't noticed yet, but will have a heart attack over in a little while.



closed to EMMA.
She has this rancid taste in her mouth from tearing into something that looked like a screwed up monster tree, tall and thin and bursting up through the ground. It left a dark ichor in her mouth that she's going to need to wash out, but right now there is this: a wolf, large and black and grey, with golden eyes that and its hackles raised, and the scent of burning rising off its fur from an encounter with another monster.

This is not what she expected when she tried to come home. She remembers taking a breath, closing her eyes and tossing the bean on the ground, and then--
and then everything kinda went to hell, just a little.

There's no indication that it's going to get any easier, either, not when the next intake of breath brings a familiar scent and has her pausing a moment before she turns, the Wolf springing forward, following the scent back towards the seam in the sky that she just managed to break away from to lick her wounds and assess the burn across her shoulder from one of those monsters, and ignores the painful stretch and pull at her injuries that the sprint demands. Emma.

Has Emma ever seen the Wolf? Red doesn't actually have a chance to think about it, because there she is, and there's a greater terror demon lurching closer. In a moment, Red is latching onto its tail with her teeth, growling as she jerks and pulls the thing away from Emma. She'll have to say 'hi' in a moment.

[dreamcatcher]

To say the least, Emma is a little overwhelmed right now. The last thing she really remembers is the darkness, whispering around and slithering its way into her veins. She remembered the pain, and then blackness, yet nothing about that dark was particularly comforting. The darkness was added to weightlessness and then suddenly she's somewhere else, and the pain of landing disappears quickly, lingering just long enough for her to know she doesn't want to feel it again. Everything is cold and hard as she forces herself to her feet, which are unfortunately quite bare. She almost regrets it when she notices how close to the edge she is. It's a precarious place to stand, she should have crawled a bit before standing.

She doesn't get a lot of time to be alarmed by her wardrobe change — a thin shift and a meager cloak and not much else — not when she seems to have crash landed into madness. A man in full armor creaks toward her with a sword raised above his head. While the palm that slides out to stop him is one intended for defense, instead of freezing him he flies back at an enormous rate, slamming painfully into rock and ice. Emma has never felt weariness after using magic before, and she keels over from the weight of it, before panic sets in at how much magic screams through her veins.

Emma had taken on the darkness on purpose, but that didn't mean she understood what that meant until she actually felt the impact.

Emma is distracted enough that she doesn't even notice the next monster swinging toward her, staring at her hands like she's not sure who they belong to anymore. When she does manage to look up, she spots the wolf trying to drag something away from her. The wolf doesn't immediately strike her as someone she knows, but it does seem to be friendly. She's known friendly wolves before, perhaps she's not as afraid of them as she should be. Emma stumbles through the snow to the dropped sword from her first unfortunate attacker, and she aims a rather gruesome swing at the monster, doing her damnedest to avoid hitting the wolf.

[gatheringstorm]

The tall, horned woman doesn't expect to see a spatula of all things come flying at the rage demon, but she has to admire anyone who arrives into the unknown and still has the presence of mind to fight back. As for 'blobs of fire', Korrin knows how to deal with those by now, and she's not one to stand idle when there's chaos all around her. Blurring forward on waves of magic, she summons ice to encase the creature. It won't last for long, but perhaps long enough for the new rifter to compound the attack with one of her own. That dagger will do far better than the spatula, she's sure.

[aceso]

Christine had never approached a rift before. She knew they were nearby, and that they had dropped rifters into this world not too long ago, but she couldn't close them and had no desire to face demons, so she'd just stayed away.

Unfortunately, her study into red lyrium meant she had to go where those spires of lyrium were twisting up from the ground, and that was actually closer to a rift than she had anticipated. The crackling sound followed by the sounds of bodies hitting ice caused Christine to turn towards the rift with wide eyes filled with alarm. She tucked her notes into her satchel and took her staff off her back, moving to a better position through the trees to see. A woman's body went flying back from a demon and hit a tree, and the mage healer took off after her without delay.

Arriving at Hermione's side, Christine held out a hand and a blue glyph appeared under both of them. She set the spell and a shade of blue washed over the women.

"There; that should keep us safe for a moment," she said quickly in an Orlesian accent, perhaps French to Hermione's ear. "Are you injured? I can heal you."

[aceso]

This is the first time Christine has been close to a rift that's opened, and she can't say she enjoyed the experience of battling demons. She stops next to Korrin, a booted toe peeking out from under her mage robes to poke at a metal camp kettle with a hinged lid. It slides on the ice, and she looks up at her friend.

"You have seen the rifters arrive before, have you not? Were there things like this with them the other times?"

[eviscerates]

Thank God, a sword. For a second, with Emma staring at her hands and looking so lost, Red had that moment of horror that she might be too thrown or too confused to fight. Now that Emma has a weapon, is fighting, at least, Red can feel a little more at ease, even if she is a long way away from relaxing.

(It makes her think, in that odd, instantaneous way that memories have, where they break over you like the tide over rocks and withdraw just as fast, of fighting alongside David, blade in his hand and her teeth readied, and how good they got at working together. The pang of loneliness is familiar and inevitable and something she has no time for at present.)

Tearing away the monster's tail in a mess of gore that splatters across her muzzle and the ice, Red draws back, circles, and waits for the pause after Emma's next strike to throw herself at the creature, the full weight of her and the force of the attack enough to throw it off balance, if just for a moment, teeth sinking into the things that she suppose pass for a neck and shoulders on something like this. She moves faster than a normal wolf might, biting and clawing as it topples, before it flings her off and has her rolling across the ice with a painful thud. It's barely holding on, though. We can do this, she thinks, even with the protest of pain and the rush of too much adrenaline through her body.

[eviscerates]

Fireblob, check. Weird shit going on, check. Woman with horns (minotaur? something else? another new element, shall we say) moving very fast and using an ice attack? Yeah, this is... concerning, to say the least. At least giant-possible-minotaur seems to be fighting the monster rather than attacking her.

Her attack gives Red a chance to skid across the ice, slipping partway through her urgency to get to the thing and catching herself with the skill of someone who has dealt with this kind of thing before, as she draws the dagger and drives it into the back of the things head - at least, where she thinks the back of its head would be, if it had something so distinct. She is strong, has a lot of force, and is able to drive her dagger in with another attack.

"Any ideas how we kill this thing?"

In her experience, it's sometimes more complicated than hit it until it dies, but only sometimes.

[obi_wanmanshow]

Obi-Wan woke immediately and completely.

There were procedures in place, training regimes, what to do when the gravity cuts out, when you suddenly find yourself out the airlock, when you're thrown off something and need to land safely, somehow. Obi-Wan remembered none of them; pure instinct flipped him right-way-up and landed him on his feet.

Or, it was meant to; the ice was slick, and he was on his knees almost as soon as he had landed.

"What?" Green light, and red glow, bubbling black shadows along the icy ground. Obi-Wan looked up into a face full of teeth and terror danced an unwelcome jig down his spine, "What?!"

His hands reached automatically, found the lightsaber under him; it had broken a chip from the ice. It sparked in his hands and he grimaced; that was useless. Then he flung up a hand and the Force answered, tumbling the creature back and away.

No time for questions then. No time for anything, unarmed as he is, except to survive. If he could.

[gatheringstorm]

While the woman with the red cloak stabs the rage demon, Korrin takes advantage of the moment to cast a Barrier spell over them both. The rage demon will break free any second, and though diminished will still be a threat. Not to mention whatever else in the area decides to pay them a visit.

"If you have ice magic, use that! Otherwise, just keep stabbing." For Korrin's part, she'll need to wait a bit to repeat Winter's Grasp, so instead she activates her previously empty hilt, conjuring a glowing blade just as the demon breaks free of its icy prison. Charging, she slices into it.