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Magical Bestiary | Tuesday, period 2

"Right. So," Bob started. "Quite a few of these classes have dealt with how to determine what a magical being wants. What to do and not to do when dealing with them. But what do you do if there is no dealing with them? If what they want is you, dead. Or if they simply want to go from here to there, and you're in their way and they'll kill you regardless?"

He shrugged. "Not everything magical is intelligent, after all. So, since you all seem to love the more practical demonstrations," or keep trying to chase them down and tame them, "I thought we'd do that again."

He gestured, and the Danger Shop was suddenly a city, and at the end of the block were a wave of zombies.

In the distance were some large stomping noises. "That'll be the giants," Bob explained.

The shriek something overhead punctuated his words. "Not sure what that is," he added cheerfully. "We never did find out exactly. Enjoy!"

Sorry, students; your teacher has decided to be a little shit today.

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Running for your life!

Worry.

Or fight! Your choice.

He's here! He might even listen.

Once he pings in.

Let me know if you'd like something to fight or run from, or feel free to mod whatever. I don't even want to know how insane work is going to be.

Dante

In spite of what the "The fuck," he muttered might have implied, Dante wasn't worried.

Dante was eating cookies.

What? What Bob was describing was basically his life anyway.

Edited 2015-12-01 08:03 (UTC)

That wasn't even a choice. "Seriously?" Dante said, pulling a face at the shambling mob up ahead. And then he looked up.

The symbol on his back glowed. Rebellion shimmered into existence, Dante already reaching back to grab it by the hilt. "Hey!" he called. "You ever heard of 'the bigger they are, the harder they fall'?"

Fine. It'd been too long since he got some real exercise.

And the shrieking things? He was always more comfortable fighting in the air, anyway.

Kathy

By 'worry', did Bob mean 'start grinning and nearly start bouncing with excitement'? Hopefully he did, because that was what Kathy was doing, pulling her hair back out of her eyes and scoping out their surroundings for some decent improvised weapons.

Something about the zombies snagged at Kathy's memory. She frowned at the advancing horde for a moment, trying to remember what it was about them that seemed--important. Something about Nick and the Mighty Dragon and LA...?

Shaking her head, she let whatever-it-was go. It wasn't terribly important to the here and now anyway. Not when there were giants and shrieking things and exes and--

Exes? That was a weird way to think about zombies.

Again, though. Didn't matter. She had enemies to take down. She dashed forward into the oncoming wave of rotting bodies, their slow shuffle practically stillness against her innate speed.

Hammer kick. Vault. Spin kick and snap as bones broke beneath the blur of her hands and feet.

Anders

Merrill

. . . yeah, someday this was going to be A Typical Day in Kirkwall for Merrill, more or less.

Not, of course, that she knew that just yet.

"Oh, do you think that sounds good? I don't think it sounds good," she commented to no one in particular.

"I saw a giant eat a druffalo once," Anders contributed, with a look in his eye that was somehow both nervous and excited. "Swallowed the whole thing down in one gulp before an archer scared it away from the herd."

She could have run. She really could have. But Merrill was a mage with no small amount of pride in her abilities (even though she'd never admit it out loud) and not that many opportunities to really test what she could do.

"Oh, this is actually a little bit exciting," she admitted, unslinging her staff from her back. "Creators, that's a lot of corpses though."

She took no small amount of satisfaction in watching the giant rock she'd conjured go smashing into a cluster of zombies at high speed; the Keeper hadn't thought she was quite ready to handle that spell yet, but she'd been practicing on her own.

"Oh, the poor druffalo," Merrill said, momentarily distracted from her own mix of eagerness and apprehension. "I wonder if that gave the giant indigestion? It'd serve it right, if so."

"You'd think it would, wouldn't it?" Anders speculated. "All the fur and horns. Can't be good for the stomach."

"And the hooves," added Merrill. "I wonder if these giants are the druffalo-eating kind?"

Also, she was really curious about the flying things.

"I mentioned them in class last week," Anders said, shrugging. "I'm not sure if that means anything. It'd be a good fight, if they are."

Strange how that made him sound more, rather than less, interested.

If everybody else was fighting, Anders had enough pride to do the same. (He probably wouldn't have held back even in less violently inclined company, to tell the truth.)

He sent ice from his staff, noting with satisfaction the way the zombies froze to be shattered by the next blow. A giant swung toward him with one enormous hand, and he sent it off with a quick burst of fire before diving for cover.

He kept glancing up to the skies as he fought. He still wanted to know what the screeches were.

Anders was there and ready to fight ... whatever there was to be fought, really. He wasn't picky.

"I've never fought a giant. Or much of anything yet, really," Merrill admitted, and she did sound a little bit sorry about that. "Anyway, even if they're not the same kind of giants, getting stepped on by one would probably be just as unpleasant. We should try to avoid that."

"Wait until you've been here a little bit longer," Anders said, with something that came strangely close to glee. "They get proper invasions every so often. And I've gotten into fights a few times following people home, too."

He coughed, trying to settle to a more sober tone. "That is -- I don't want to be stepped on by anything, either. And I'd rather the corpses kept their distance. They don't smell very good."

Edited 2015-12-01 19:41 (UTC)

And this was why they were not the melee members of the party.

"They never do, do they? Especially not that many of them all at once. I'm not so fond of that part." Merrill wrinkled her nose, but she did sound somewhat sympathetic when she glanced toward the zombies and murmured, "Poor things."

"Don't tell me you baked?" Bob somehow seriously doubted that.

Dante side-eyed him.

"Where've you been?" he said, gesturing at Bob with a half-eaten cookie. "These things are like everywhere right now."

Well, sure. If you could open doors.

Kaylin Neya

Huh. Live and learn. The students might or might not learn anything, but Bob certainly was.

Anders made a little tch of sympathy with his tongue.

"I know," he agreed. "Shame no one had a chance to burn them before this happened."

Well, it was better than trying to tame the damn things! Bob was just going to stand back and watch.

"I don't think they're real anyhow." Which didn't stop Merrill from looking like she still pitied them, real or not. "At least, not these. I don't feel too bad about practicing on them, in that case."

"Oh, very nice." Credit where it was due; that was a fairly impressive spell.

Ice was good! An admirable choice. Bob approved.

Did Anders really want to know what those screeches were? Here came one - a whirlwind of noise and movement and a vague hint of claws.

Mabel Pines

"There is that," Anders laughed. "Nothing in here's real. Perfect for practice without guilt."

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Magical Bestiary | Tuesday, period 2

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