Date: 2025-01-11 08:55 am (UTC)
theriflespiral: natalia, a pale girl with black hair and black eyes, holds a glass shard in her hand. a panoply of guns, bread, and nets surrounds her. (0)
There were-- There were too many to dodge, not all at once. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Was she-- about to die here--? Well if I'm going to die, I'll say it!

The motion is epiphanic, automatic, a Dancer's turn with a cry whose nature is obscured by the sound of glass and ice swirling, then the sound of explosions.

But she knows what she screamed, in that moment, as the ice exploded into steam: "I swear: No one makes weapons of the helpless!"

Her left arm is near-useless, now, encased in ice that is cracked and crazed from where the pressure waves proved harmful to her lack of control. Blood, somehow not frozen, creeps like honey through the thin cracks. Her right, however, is still good, and while her advance is slower, she's still coming.

Her left arm swings to arrest Terra's arms. Her right hand reaches for the gem. "Take this glove then, you damned cold, but take this gem with it!"

And what better way to absorb ether and do damage, than ice, who sucks the heat and power from everything, and makes the Earth brittle, and the Air dry?

She knows it will hurt her to absorb it.

But she'll do it anyway.

It's worth it.

((if I need an Ether Training for this, that's what I saved that 200 notoriety for.))
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