[That smirk of his turns into a wild grin as he feels cloth and flesh give way under his fingers, the hot rush of blood staining those pinkish red gloves into something akin to a gruesome sunrise. It's like a cat darting back to claw at a toy, the way he pounces back forward to try to get another swipe at her, eyes dilated and fangs bared--
And then the vines burst back up from below, greedily winding around his waist and back bow to keep him tethered to the spot, sending him bouncing back slightly from the momentum. There's no startled yell or outburst of anger in response, though-- only a look of childish surprise as he stares at his bindings, yet again, wiggling them a little to see if he could shake them loose. Well, they tore apart easily enough last time...
But before he can even reach to shred them off, a projectile of pure energy slams right into him, the resulting explosion sending him staggering back from the impact. A heavy, muted THUNK sounds out within the smoke of the aftermath, and as it starts to dissipate under the night breeze...
... yikes. Tsukasa's uniform is singed and battered, his hat gone and his fine hair frizzed and in disarray, a black, sludgy substance leaking from beneath his hairline and down his face. And sticking out in the middle of his back, straight between his shoulder blades, is Cooro's hatchet, the blade buried deep and the handle angled upwards.
By any shred of logic, Tsukasa would be McFuckin Dead at this very moment. But this was the Dream Sphere, where logic did not apply, and so he lifts his head, pupils pitch black and dangerous, before reaching out and wrenching the hatchet from his back, stained with the same jet-black substance oozing from his head.]
... right. You guys are starting to get a little bit annoying now.
[And at that, he slashes at the vines holding him in place, cutting himself free, twirling the hatchet in his hands for a moment before raising it in his hands to either swipe or bludgeon whoever is unfortunate enough to be in his way. Well shit. The Night Terror has a Dreamer weapon now-- is that even legal??]
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And then the vines burst back up from below, greedily winding around his waist and back bow to keep him tethered to the spot, sending him bouncing back slightly from the momentum. There's no startled yell or outburst of anger in response, though-- only a look of childish surprise as he stares at his bindings, yet again, wiggling them a little to see if he could shake them loose. Well, they tore apart easily enough last time...
But before he can even reach to shred them off, a projectile of pure energy slams right into him, the resulting explosion sending him staggering back from the impact. A heavy, muted THUNK sounds out within the smoke of the aftermath, and as it starts to dissipate under the night breeze...
... yikes. Tsukasa's uniform is singed and battered, his hat gone and his fine hair frizzed and in disarray, a black, sludgy substance leaking from beneath his hairline and down his face. And sticking out in the middle of his back, straight between his shoulder blades, is Cooro's hatchet, the blade buried deep and the handle angled upwards.
By any shred of logic, Tsukasa would be McFuckin Dead at this very moment. But this was the Dream Sphere, where logic did not apply, and so he lifts his head, pupils pitch black and dangerous, before reaching out and wrenching the hatchet from his back, stained with the same jet-black substance oozing from his head.]
... right. You guys are starting to get a little bit annoying now.
[And at that, he slashes at the vines holding him in place, cutting himself free, twirling the hatchet in his hands for a moment before raising it in his hands to either swipe or bludgeon whoever is unfortunate enough to be in his way. Well shit. The Night Terror has a Dreamer weapon now-- is that even legal??]