These Lonely Walls

[Flamebird]

There was a price to pay for not wearing any armor.

For her shrewd plan, Felicity was equally reckless. The attack failed to overwhelm him. Instead, he stepped aside and made a neat, simple, disciplined move with his blade. For a brief moment, pain exploded in the girl's upper underarm.

A blind rage overtook for a millisecond, which caused her to blindly swing. She was temporarily immune to pain, just a little bit stronger than before. Yet, her nuclear strength boosts all came at the price of a calm mind. Unfortunately, a tall plant next to her had a series of vines. As Hayate recollected, the fifteen seconds were wasted on blindly lashing at the vines, somehow freeing herself.

As pale green plant remains fell around her, she stepped out with a twisted look of anger. Then, anguish.

Her arm stung. The girl squeezed her sword as she cried out in the sharp, pulsing pain. Crimson blood dripped down her bulky arm, coating her hand. She feared her grip on her weapon grew slippery thanks to her own body liquid. Her blood was dark, too tainted in shade to be considered normal. Her body, in fact, was a living nuclear bomb. Her dark powers, she had nuclear radiation running in her veins. Her blood could sting, nauseate, bring pain… It was unfortunate that, thus far, her blood only represented her own pain.

She would have to endure. The strongly pain resistant berserker bit her lip in frustration, determination. Then she gasped, feeling a surge of magical energy from in front of her. Looking up, she saw that the man had summoned an ethereal ribcage around him. Beautiful, powerful, it illuminated the simply clothed man in glowing color. It wrapped around him like a suit of armor, protecting him in glowing red-orange energy. Felicity could not help but take a moment to observe it in awe.

Yet, her childlike wonder quickly turned to anger. His words. His words poked at her, taunted her. They told her she was not good enough. An audible growl sounded, low and enraged. Her free fist tightened, face red. It was complicated, the fact that even with her low self esteem she needed to defend herself. Despite her insecurities, any word spoken against her struck the worst of chords. She had been put down too many times to count in life. For her young age, she experienced so much. No, this Hayate was wrong. He clearly underestimated her. Bitter determination shone in her darkened, slitted eyes as she put her sword away.

She had no idea how the summoned bones worked. She needed a new strategy.

As she winced in pain, holding her moderate cut, her mind raced. Her eyes darted towards her bow, cast on the filthy marble floor. Maybe… she needed to take a missile approach until she had a good grasp of this man's capacities. She would need to get past him, however, to reach her bow. Luckily, the red liquid painting her hand red gave her an idea. She took off, attempting to swerve past him as well as her skrawny neanderthal legs allowed. As she drew close, she squeezed her wound. A loud shout resounded, but she endured. She had a plan, so worth the extra pain. With a handful of blood, she threw her hand. Hopefully, some of her blood would splatter on him. Hopefully, the nuclear poisoning would distract him long enough to reach her ranged weapon.

She was not about to hand his victory out on a silver platter.