dreamblazed

[dreamblazed]

"E-Everyone just please calm down!"

Misha cried above the clamor, but it was difficult to soothe a grieving town. The denizens of Dreamville could not contain their grief. Even as they stood around the bellhop (drawn to their full heights, they just about reached his hips), a quiet murmur rippled through them, the collective sob of a nation in mourning. The somber gathers had dulled the luster of Golden Street and Goldleaf Plaza significantly.

The boy sighed. Clockie had been inconsolable. No one knew where he had gone, and so Misha took up the task of speaking to the people. It was difficult, but he kept his friend steadfast in his thoughts. So long as Clockie was in need, he would be there—just as Clockie had always been there for him.

"Look, I know we're all sad about Brother Hanu… I am too, but…"

Misha clenched his jaw. Sad was an understatement. It was as though the Universe had lost one of the only heroic men left. For Brother Hanu was the savior of Dreamville. Without him, who would protect them? Were they now destined to fall apart and return to the tyrannical rule of Boss Stone? The thought sent shivers down his spine. He did not want that—no one did. Their freedom was hard-fought and won.

"B-but we can find a way to get him back. We have to…!"

From within the crowd, an origami bird squawks. "What if the Sicilians do something to him before we can save him?"

"No, don't say that!" Misha shook his head fiercely, "He… he can't get hurt!"

Despite his best efforts, the anxious thought permeated all throughout Dreamville, and the people once again began to rouse their sadness and suspicions. Some cried in grief, others in anger. Someone called for the Sicilians' heads. Misha tried again to soothe them, but their restlessness had grown past what he knew to deal with. It was stopped only by the onset of a loud noise, and the stumbling of footsteps towards Goldleaf Plaza. Misha gasped.

"W-who's there?"

The crowd startled. Misha stepped through them, careful not to trip over their small bodies, and stopped in front of the tall, silver-haired lady. As he stood there, the people of Dreamville moved behind him, defensive. They began to whisper amongst themselves, wondering if this was some new friend or foe. Misha elected to choose the former.

"Um…" he began, very eloquently, "Hello. H-How did you get into Dreamville?"

@deathstaroverload

there goes my hero

⏱︎ [ misha & firefly ] ⏱︎

[dreamblazed]

Misha nods, following Neuvillette's command easily and with little complaint. As they swim eastward, the water opens up slightly, giving way to a wider depth of blue. Their otter pup paddles ahead, though Misha opts to linger closer to Fontaine's Iudex—it would be troubling for him to get lost.

"Do you know what shells they usually like?" he asks, glancing down to the seafloor below them. There is a small variety of them nestled in the soft sand, pale pinks and blues buried halfway into the ground. They look like smoothed-over shards of porcelain, "I-I mean, I suppose it makes better sense to let the otter choose but…"

His gaze turns to Neuvillette. How he floats in the water, how his robes flow. Come to think of it, his coat had just about the same shade of blue as the otter, didn't it? And his hair shone a similar shade of white. And he did mention being a Hydro Lifeform—whatever that was. Misha blinks, then shakes his head, as though to forcibly dispel the thought. It's a bit rude to compare him to an otter.

"Nevermind. Sorry, I was thinking of something silly. Um… how about I just grab one and show the pup?"

Kicking downwards proves to be a bit of a struggle. Misha's legs flail about before they can propel him to the ground, clumsily caught in the water's body, but he does eventually reach that trove of shells. He searches through the ground, using his fingers to brush away what sand and kelp have caught onto the shells' surfaces. His effort bears him fruit in the form of a pearlescent clam shell, whose shifting blue-purple hues reminded him of the Reverie's Dreampool. He isn't so sure if otters care to dream like people do, but he feels in his heart it's a good thing to give regardless of sentiment.

Swimming past Neuvillette, he approaches the pup with his offering.

"Here you go…!" 

Misha holds out the shell with both hands, though they quiver with a nervousness that would befit a graver situation. The otter tilts its head at it, then wanders over to him. It sniffs—it sniffs—and it finally picks up the shell with its paws. It goes over it with what sounds like a scrutinizing hum… then hurls it back into the ground with a huff. The shot barely misses Misha, though the bellhop still yelps.

"Ah!" air bubbles escape to the surface with his exclamation, "N-not keen on that one, then…"

bliss in blue

⏱︎ [ misha & neuvillette ] ⏱︎

[dreamblazed]

✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.

₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of character analysis/headcanon questions to learn more about your character and your partners'! writing/headcanon prompts requested by anonymous. feel free to edit these as you see fit.

[ 🖐️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do their hands feel like: soft, calloused, trembling ? [ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ? [ 🎐 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace ? [ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen did they feel the safest ? [ 💤 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they sleep ? curled up, sprawled, holding onto something ? [ 🦇 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a fear they never talk about ? [ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ? [ 🪢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they broke a promise ? [ 🫳 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they feel they owe, but never paid back ? [ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them ? [ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ? [ ⛓️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does guilt feel like to them ? [ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho have they never forgiven and never will ? [ 🩸 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there something or someone that, if lost, would break them ? [ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from ? [ 🪞 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen have they looked at their reflection and hated what they saw ? [ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ? [ 🌊 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they cried ? [ 🐾 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo animals like them instinctively ? [ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ? [ 🫀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho taught them what love is ? did it hurt ? [ 💭 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they believe they’re worthy of being loved ? [ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ? [ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for ? [ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others ? [ 🌒 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a dream or goal they have given up on ? [ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ? [ 🌪️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the one choice they regret (not) making ? [ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ? [ 🍻 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of drunk are they ? [ ✉️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of letter would they write but never send ? [ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ? [ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ? [ 🪦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat would they want on their gravestone but never admit aloud ? [ 🎱 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of future do they crave, and who’s in it ? [ 🌀 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare ? [ 🍃 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they feel like they belong ? [ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ? [ 🧭 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhere would they go if they could disappear tomorrow ?

[dreamblazed]

"This works! It's a great view of the park," Misha responded, grinning and sitting down on the bench that Gallagher led him towards, "I guess you'd know all the good spots as a Bloodhound."

His bag of candy sat on his knees, wrappers jutting out from the hole at the bottom of the paper. He made no mention of how the plastic poked into his skin, even if he did find it kind of painful. Instead he mirrored the Hound's casual movement, taking a piece of the candy and popping it in his mouth. It was a miracle that he did not end up choking on it.

The candy was sweet—maybe a bit too sweet, but Penacony always flooded the senses with excess. Misha got used to the saccharine the longer it stayed on his tongue, and soon even began to enjoy it. He reached for another, but soon dropped it back in the bag.

"Drop the—whuh?"

Misha's eyes widened. Gallagher occasionally said things he could not understand, but he had always chalked that up to indecipherable grown-up sentiment. This was the first time he had heard him say something well and truly absurd. He opened his mouth to speak—then quickly realized it was a bit of a rude gesture. So he quickly tried to swallow. The candy went down his throat like a tough pill, and tasted quite like it too. The cavern of his mouth tingled with a sudden bitterness.

"No, I'm not Mikhail… that's Grandpa. Did you know him?" He didn't think anyone knew his Grandpa aside from him, but it made sense that Gallagher might. He had been in Dreamflux Reef since forever. Maybe the two met before Mikhail left for his travels. That does not explain why the Hound would mistake Misha for him, though. Worried, the boy reached for Gallagher's shoulder.

"Are you alright, Gallagher? You said something about—Aagh!" Abruptly, he froze. A hand went to his head, which by now had a throbbing pain splitting it in two. He felt a cold drop of sweat run down the back of his neck, "S-Sorry, I'm so so sorry, my head is just…"

He squeezed his eyes shut, quietly whimpering. Memories ran through his head like a reel of film being rapidly spun, but Misha found that he could not really hold onto most of them. After each vision passed, his mind turned blank. Severance was the best way he could describe it—as though one part of his mind was being cleaved from the other and thrown elsewhere.

( And when it landed, it had begun to form a small mind of its own. Somewhere in the vague Dreamscape... )

Suddenly, Misha rose, his hard-earned candy spilling all over the floor. The bellhop turned to Gallagher. There was something like horror that was imprinting itself onto his expression: the symptoms of a grave realization being made. He grabbed Gallagher's hand.

"Are you still looking for Mikhail?" he asked, hushed and frantic, like a criminal whispering contraband, "Because, The Watchmaker, I… I think he's here. Somewhere..." Misha winced; another spike of pain ran through his head, "But we have to find him before anyone else does!"

brief even as bright

⏱︎ [ misha & gallagher ] ⏱︎

[dreamblazed]

"Woah!"

Misha ducked as the ice-bat came flying over his head. March was a good shot, so of course it meant her throw was also precise—it smacked their foe right in his chest, though burst into dozens of shattered pieces soon after. Despite the situation, the bellhop smiled to himself. He recognized that weapon, and it made him happy to see the Nameless use it. It nourished the soul to pay tribute to those you journeyed with. He knew this for a fact, though could not tell why.

He gripped his sword, eyes watching Kevin closely. He had no power to shape his weapon. Its form simply manifested on its own, perhaps in response to a purpose it had to serve. Once their enemy was down, Misha did not know what would become of that purpose; or of their group, for that matter. Surely they would go back to their lives, and he, to his humble job at the Reverie, where he would no longer be anyone's hero—just their bellboy. No doubt his blade would return to being a simple broom as well. Could they still feast, then?

The thought made him melancholic. The end of an adventure would always be bittersweet, and for as much as Misha had felt his life was in complete and utter peril, he had grown somewhat attached to what they had. It helped that they were kind to him—kinder than the guests he had to serve or the supervisors he had to answer to. They made him more than a bellboy. Though perhaps that was what they most needed him to be.

In the midst of these thoughts, Misha found his opening. The frost that lingered in the air had long settled in his fingertips, and they felt numb as they tightened around the sword, but he resolved to hold on as strongly as he could. This enemy had weathered so much. It would not take long for him to be brought down.

"I-I think he's getting close to…" dying, they all knew, but Misha could not bring himself to say it. Instead, he continued on, "I'll try to bring him down again. B-but he's probably gonna get up real quick, so… please cover me!"

At that, he turned and raised his sword. He did not turn back to see if they were indeed watching him—over the course of several battles, he developed the trust that they simply would—and charged forward. Again, he took his sword and plunged it downward, pinning Kevin down onto the ground by the wing. The cold was unbearable, especially when it mixed with the burn he had from before. But Misha continued to fulfill his purpose. Dutifully, he kept Kevin down.

@herrschicken finish himmmm

✧ ;- ad ignem et glaciem

Spiral Abyss, Team 5 : Floor 3

[dreamblazed]

"Oh! Thank you, March 7th..."

The compliment soothed him. It sounded so much like the idle gratitude of the Reverie's guests. But all semblance of comfort soon faded when Misha laid eyes on Kevin's grounded figure.

He really did not want to go anywhere near him. The chill, the fear, and the way his soul trembled at the thought of keeping another person(?) pinned down made him hesitate in a way that went beyond his normal reservations. Blindly swinging his sword had been easy. Running towards faceless foes and getting lucky was easy. It was not easy, however, to fight Kevin.

But Misha already saw him struggling to escape. He saw the way those wings wished to fly, how relentlessly they flapped against the ground. Against his best wishes, he approached the fallen Icarus, and secured the position of his sword with a clenched fist.

Rime Trauma activates! -1HP MISHA: 8/10HP [1 energy] MISHA: 8/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 135/300HP [Roll: 4+5 = 9, Hit! -1.5HP SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 133.5/300HP] SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) is inflicted with Cryo! SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 133.5/300HP counters with Flaming Obliteration [Roll: 3, Miss!] [Roll: 3, Redirect fails!]

It discomforted him to keep his blade fastened through someone's flesh. But he held on, eyes squeezed shut and teeth tightly ground.

The bellhop was not always brave or strong. He was nothing like the Herrscher who moved with confidence and power, or Aglaea who enacted her will with ease, or March, whose strong spirit had pushed her to go this far. No, he was nothing like these women. But if there was one thing he always did, it was his job.

Now, he stands guard over Kevin. The surrounding aura of chill made his knuckles quiver around the handle of his sword. But this was his job. This was his purpose. He saw it now—he had to keep this man lying still.

What Misha does not know is that Kevin, too, has a purpose. Kevin, too, lives by something beyond himself—beyond even his kin. A cosmic oath willed him to rise, and all Misha could do was whimper as he watched it.

[1 energy] MISHA: 8/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 133.5/300HP [Roll: 11+5 = 16, Crit! -3HP SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 130.5/300HP] SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) counters with Flaming Obliteration [Roll: 18, Hit!] [Roll: 1, Redirect triggers!] -2SP, AGLAEA: 10/10HP 0/6SP Pyro already applied [Follow-Up Attack] MARCH  7TH: 8/10HP uses Girl Power on SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC): 130.5/300HP. [Roll: 15, Crit! -5HP, SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC): 125.5/300HP] [1 energy] MISHA: 8/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 125.5/300HP [Roll: 7+5 = 12, Crit! -3HP SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 122.5/300HP] SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 122.5/300HP counters with Flaming Obliteration [Roll: 12, Hit! -2HP, MISHA: 6/10HP] MISHA is inflicted with Pyro

He tried to keep him down. He really did. He swung his sword at him, and when that was not enough, he used that piercing motion that he did not really like. But there was no stopping the Kaslana. Kevin fired off something searingly-hot—such a cruel contrast to his cold—and Misha staggered back, feeling the singed fabric of his uniform graze against his skin.

"H-he's up again!" he yelled to the others, though they could undoubtedly see Kevin for themselves, "And his attacks really hurt... Please be careful!"

@herrschicken @futureforetold

✧ ;- ad ignem et glaciem

Spiral Abyss, Team 5 : Floor 3

[dreamblazed]

Food sounded nice, and a celebration even better. Most of them were strangers at the start of this, but he liked to think maybe they could be friends at the end. Though too much adrenaline pumped through his system for him to linger on the sentiment. The only thing he really felt right now was cold. Terribly, terribly cold. Enough that it hurt to move.

But he continued with the fight. If they were not going to give up, then so would yhe. He followed the Herrscher's style of attack. Though his sword lacked the reach of her broadblade, he tried his best to stay out of his reach; out of that malicious chill that wrapped around him. It was difficult considering Kevin's movement. But opportunity presented itself eventually. Like a bird coming to nest, there was a moment where their diabolic foe landed his feet on the ground. Misha felt a surge of urgency run through him, white-hot to contrast to the blue-cold. Now was his chance...!

"E-excuse me! I'll hold him down!"

Rime Trauma activates! -1HP MISHA: 10/10HP   MISHA: 10/10HP rolls 4 energy. [3 energy]  MISHA: 10/10HP uses Elemental Burst: G—Gonna Be Late! on SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 231/300HP and hits 11 times! [-47 HP, SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 184/300HP] [Roll = 1] SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE is Frozen[1 energy] MISHA: 9/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 184/300HP [Roll: 13+5 = 18, Crit! -3HP SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE (DIABOLIC) 181/300HP]

He squeezed his eyes shut and drove his sword through Kevin's wing. It looked like butterfly wings being tacked onto a frame. He did not like the feeling of resistance against his blade, and when he opened his eyes, he immediately retreated to his allies' side. Using a sword like a weapon as opposed to some sharp broom made him feel strange. Misha is still unused to the sensation of battle, the friction of his weapon against someone's skin, the shape of a limp, humanoid body. Yet somehow, he also felt like this cycle of violence was familiar to him. Like he had read an entry of it in his grandfather's journal.

But whatever he felt, he knew he had to help. Whatever way he could.

@mrch7th

✧ ;- ad ignem et glaciem

Spiral Abyss, Team 5 : Floor 3

[dreamblazed]

"B-Blue Guy...?"

The nickname left him stunned, but he decided to move past it. There were bigger, Kevin-shaped problems lying ahead. Though Aglaea's remark was right—it did not look like he could hold on for much longer. Misha squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring that heavy cold that settled in his stomach.

"R-right, yeah. Just leave it to me..."

Their attacks left him with a clear opening to strike, and he forced himself to stop thinking so much about it. So much about this man was scary—Misha could not even near him without feeling his heart rate quicken. But there would be no one else to do this save for him. He had to end this, and quickly.

Misha pushed past his allies and ran to Kevin sword-first. His eyes focused squarely on his foe. He tried not to think of anything else. Somewhere along his path, however, a small divot in the floor caught his feet unaware.

"W-what? No—!"

MISHA: 10/10HP rolls 4 energy. [2 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Elemental Skill: R—Room Service on all enemies! [-6 HP, SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE 3/200HP] [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE 3/200HP [Roll: 4+5 = 9, Hit! -4.5HP SHADOW OF DELIVERANCE 0/200HP]

The bellhop was thrown forward, toppling right on top of Kevin. His sword went through the man's body, and Misha cried out in pain and horror.

"Ah! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Why he was apologizing for stabbing the enemy, he could not say. Still, he pulled away as quickly as he could, yanking the sword from Kevin's body as he did. The man crumpled, and Misha winced; he's never impaled a person before. Certainly no one like Kevin. It was bad enough to think that he'd run a sword through a man, but the Herrscher's remark about the cold he radiated was also right. The part of his body that had collided with Kevin's felt numb, and he could feel a chill run up his arm in needle-like pricks. Soon, it might fall asleep. He didn't like fighting this guy, not one bit.

Unfortunately for him, their encounter was not over. From where he fell, their foe once again rose, this time transforming into something Misha found horrifying. It looked like the Herrscher when she transformed. Except he...

"He has wings?!" He turned to the Herrscher of Sentience, eyes wide with panic, "P-please don't tell me he can fly..."

Phase 2 begins!

@mrch7th

✧ ;- ad ignem et glaciem

Spiral Abyss, Team 5 : Floor 3

[dreamblazed]

"Y-You know him?!"

In his attempt to avoid the man's attacks, Misha had found himself cowering next to the Herrscher of Sentience. Not the most ideal position, given the terrifying form she was in.

His eyes, when he turned to the Herrscher, were round and glistening. "Can't... can't we just talk to him?"

Considering the rampage she proceeded to go on, he figured the answer was no. He took a deep breath and clutched his blade, finding its weight a bit more familiar.

Kevin... was it? The name was ordinary, easily mistaken for an assistant manager at the Reverie, or perhaps one of its guests. But the man before them seemed anything but. What he inspired went beyond fear, beyond chill. It was as though Misha's whole system shut down and got buried into the snow, forgotten for eternity.

Misha swallowed. He knew he had to move. He had to keep protecting everyone. Maybe that was why the dream gave him this sword? In the stories he knew, the hero always wielded one. And the hero would always save his friends in the end.

But he does not feel like a hero. Most times, he feels like a fool. An old fool. What he feels does not matter, though. The people cry for a legacy—and a legacy they shall receive.

"O-okay. No talking, I guess. But I don't know about piling onto him... I'll just try to—!"

With a heave, Misha spun—looking very much like that big axe-wielding character from before, except his spins were much more clumsy and uneven. That seemed to work to his favor, though, for Kevin had been caught in the whirlwind and staggered to his feet. More than that, though, he seemed to freeze mid-fall, not getting up even after a moment had passed.

"Whew. For a moment I thought I wasn't gonna do it..."

Misha exhaled, and let his sword fall to his side. He did not know why, but he suddenly felt quite cold.

@herrschicken @futureforetold

✧ ;- ad ignem et glaciem

Spiral Abyss, Team 5 : Floor 3

[dreamblazed]

"Aglaea! A-are you okay?"

The sudden drop in her sentences alarmed him, and he quickly ran to her side. From what he'd seen of her, Misha felt that Aglaea was a strong, sharp woman (kind, too, for all the praise and patience she had given him.) It was surprising to see her drift off in the middle of battle, eyes unfocused and breaths deep. Maybe she had suddenly gotten overwhelmed by Memoria—whatever Dreamscape this was did feel rather volatile, so he could have understood if she experienced some kind of hallucination. It was still somewhat concerning, though. Misha frowned.

"Keep them frozen..." he murmurs in response to Aglaea's instruction, then nods, "O-okay! I got that. You can leave them to me! Just, uh, please take it easy?"

He had none of the Clockwork powers of his cartoon friend, so as much as he wished to relax her, the most he could do was make abide by her request. He was good at following instructions... most of the time.

Their opposition regained their movement. Misha could feel the rumbling of their heavy steps. Running up to their enemies, he could see that one of them was beginning to tire. They were covered in a glossy, wet layer, like an ocean covering the surface of a planet. He wondered if his sword could pierce through the veil. Well, there was only one way to find out.

MISHA: 10/10HP rolls 3 energy [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 11.5/20SP [Roll: 17+2 = 19, Crit! -4HP] ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 7.5/20SP ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS is afflicted with Cryo. Frozen triggers! [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 7.5/20SP [Roll: 4+2 = 6, Hit! -2.5HP] ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 5/20SP[1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 5/20SP [Roll: 5+2 = 7, Hit! -2.5HP] ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 2.5/20SP

He ducked to the side and swung his sword at the watery shield. The blade bounced off the surface, and he flinched at how the steel rebounded, but before the Herald could retaliate, a thick layer of ice began to bloom, originating from where Misha had struck them. The bellhop's eyes widened—oh, was March 7th helping him out? In any case, he hurriedly began to hit other areas of their body to let more of the ice spread. He struck the shins, leapt up to smack their shoulders, all the while avoiding the slow yet vengeful strikes of his opponent. In the end, the chill had fully encased his foe.

Misha heaved a deep sigh. He felt like he'd just lifted a dozen bags up to the Reverie's penthouse. He turned back to Aglaea.

"T-there! Frozen..."

✧ ;- epiméno

Spiral Abyss, Team 5 : Floor 2

[dreamblazed]

Misha had never heard of a Herrscher before—he had assumed it was some sort of title during her initial introduction, but now he could see that its meaning ran deeper than mere label. Something within his core shook upon the realization, though he did his best to simply press on. The battle continued its motion, like the hands of a clock ever ticking forward. He must do all that he could to catch it.

Though the Herrscher's illusion absorbed the blow for her, the rest of them did not have the same privilege. As their great, lumbering foes readied another attack, Misha knew that it was time once again to freeze them in their tracks. An arm extended out, by instinct, stopping anyone behind him from moving forward.

"W-wait! I can holding them off this time! I-I think..."

MISHA: 10/10HP rolls 3 energy [3 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Elemental Burst: G—Gonna Be Late! on ABYSS LECTOR: FATHOMLESS FLAMES 89/120HP and hits 7 random enemies [-16HP, ABYSS LECTOR: FATHOMLESS FLAMES 73/120HP, -16HP ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 37/120HP][Roll: 1] ABYSS LECTOR: FATHOMLESS FLAMES and ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS are Frozen!

Despite his uncertain tone, he moved much more deliberately this time, choosing to sweep his sword across his foes before their arms could even raise above their heads. He closed his eyes and wished to freeze them, and when his eyelids peeled open, he saw that it had come true. His powers seemed to work best in a small group... though he was unsure of how else he could try and bolster it. Still, the weakest of the team he might be, he still got the job done.

Misha set his sword down. He wiped the sweat off his brow.

"Phew... Thank goodness..."

@futureforetold @mrch7th

✧ ;- epiméno

Spiral Abyss, Team 5 : Floor 2

[dreamblazed]

Though 2 was less than 4—and certainly less than 6—Misha felt more wary about these foes. They numbered fewer, but in terms of stature equaled about a dozen enemies. They were colossal, easily measuring twice his height, and they seemed to have a good sense of teamwork. At least, that was what the bellhop could gather before March froze one of them.

Now there was only the other to deal with, but Misha felt that he wouldn't be able to face up against them quite yet. Their weapon could easily knock him back into Reality. Instead, he focused his attention on their frozen foe and how he might help bring it down. When fighting people who felt leagues above you, it was good to take them on one at a time. That's what his instincts told him, anyway, though it very well could have been part of a memory too.

MISHA: 10/10HP rolls 4 energy [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 81/120HP [Roll: 16+2 = 18, Crit! -5HP] ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 76/120HP Favonius Sword passive triggers! 1 energy restored. [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 76/120HP [Roll: 13+2= 16, Crit! -5HP] ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 71/120HP [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 71/120HP [Roll: 1+2 = 3, Hit! -3.5HP] ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 67.5/120HP [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 67.5/120HP [Roll: 1+2= 3, Hit! -3.5HP] ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 64/120HP [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 64/120HP [Roll: 18+2= 20, Crit! -5HP] ABYSS HERALD: WICKED TORRENTS 59/120HP

It felt strange to brandish his sword against something that wasn't moving, but he had seen March take advantage of this before. He felt that she knew more about fighting than he did prior to any of this, and so chose to match her. His hits were clumsy as ever, stronger now that he held weight with his blade, but uncertain in the arc of their swing. Still, in some way, he liked to think that they helped weaken the thing that was trapped within the ice.

"Uh, let's keep whittling them down!" he said to the rest of them, though it wasn't necessary, "A-as long as they don't move together, I think it'll be less scary!"

✧ ;- epiméno

Spiral Abyss, Team 5 : Floor 2

[dreamblazed]

"W-Woah!"

He gawked at the Herrscher's new form. He wondered if it was all the influence of the dream, or if she actually possessed these powers in full even in Reality. Misha hoped he was never in the situation to find out.

As March 7th freezes the remaining enemies, Aglaea's Garmentmaker lunges after the other, striking it down like a lion chasing prey. It fell down with a quiet, unceremonious thud, the end of its life marked with nothing more than a gleaming blade. Misha didn't know why, but he felt a little sad.

The last remaining foe began to melt away from its ice enclosure. Its hoof slowly raised high above their heads, readying a devastating strike. Misha's eyes widened, and he ran once more to intercept it. They had done a good job thus far of avoiding injury. He wished to keep that up.

"N-no! Please don't move!"

MISHA: 10/10HP rolls 3 energy [3 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Elemental Burst: G—Gonna Be Late! on VOIDRANGER TRAMPLER 63.5/100HP and hits 7 more times. [-32HP, VOIDRANGER TRAMPLER 31.5/100HP][Roll: 1] VOIDRANGER TRAMPLER 31.5/100HP is Frozen!

He cried, then slammed his sword into the ground. The floor fractured where the tip pierced through it, sending a strong wave of some invisible force rippling through the air. It knocked his enemy prone, and when Misha (nervously) went closer to inspect it, he could see that it stood frozen-still, the distant sound of clocks ticking down to its moment of freedom.

@futureforetold @herrschicken

✧ ;- epiméno

Spiral Abyss, Team 5 : Floor 2

[dreamblazed]

Misha watched Aglaea waltz through her attacks, commanding electricity as if it were some dance partner and not a weapon to kill. He glanced down at his own sword and wondered if he could ever possess as much strength, to make violence look so enticing. He looked back up at the carnage she left behind and wondered again if that's what he would use strength for.

He didn't want to fight. He'd always known he was something of a soft-hearted thing. He possessed memories of bloody battle, though was uncertain if they were his or if he simply read it in his grandfather's log—Mikhail's logs were very detailed, you see—and so he never felt acclimated toward it. Besides, fighting was always a bad thing, wasn't it? But he knew now that, no matter how bad, no one was immune to it. He didn't want to fight but he had to. And though he had none of that strength he needed now, he had this undeniable wish to keep those he was with safe. That wish was what led him forward, running past Aglaea and her Garmentmaker, past the Herrscher and the Nameless, and toward the Antimatter Legion.

"Wait, that enemy! I… I'll go take care of 'em! You guys can just, uh, go for everyone else!"

He didn't know when he got bold enough to start bossing people around, but his own nerves lowered his usual shy demeanor. The enemy he'd referred to: he caught it before, the silver-clad foe, commanding the others to go for one of them. He knew the onslaught that followed was relentless. He didn't want it to happen again. Besides, there was something tactical about going for the proverbial captain of the ship, wasn't there? So long as you injured the head, the rest of the body wouldn't be able to move. So let's go for the leader and achieve victory!

What a strange passion for combat... Ah… maybe his memories of fighting came from more than just the logs…?

MISHA: 10/10HP rolls 5 energy [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 25.5/60HP [Roll: 16+2 = 18, Crit! -4HP] VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 21.5/60HP Super-conduct triggers! Favonius Sword triggers! Regain 1 energy. [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 21.5/60HP [Roll: 7+2 = 9, Hit! -2.5HP] VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 19/60HP [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 19/60HP [Roll: 1+2 = 3, Hit! -2.5HP] VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 16.5/60HP [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 16.5/60HP [Roll: 20+2 = 22, Crit! -4HP] VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 12.5/60HP [1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 12.5/60HP [Roll: 5+2 = 7, Hit! -2.5HP] VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 10/60HP[1 energy] MISHA: 10/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 10/60HP [Roll: 20+2 = 22, Crit! -4HP] VOIDRANGER: DISTORTER: 6/60HP

He cast all this aside. Misha tried his best to focus. He kept his eyes open as wide as he could, though he couldn't stop the buckle of his knees beneath the weight of his blade. Still, his attacks managed to land. They weren't as fluid as Aglaea's—he never could hope to be, considering his perpetual clumsiness—but they were enough. He brought his mark down as low as it could go. Misha heaved a deep sigh, relief and exhaustion mixed into one.

@mrch7th @herrschicken

✧ ;- epiméno

Spiral Abyss, Team 5 : Floor 2

[dreamblazed]

Sometime while the room was melting, Misha's broom turned into a sword.

He didn't notice the change until he had instinctively glanced down at the floor as saw that, in the place of bristles, a blade was attached to his handle.

"H-Huh?!" surprise almost causes him to drop it. Brandishing his broom like a weapon was a foreign enough concept. Using a sword felt like being plopped into an entirely different Universe. Perhaps whoever was in control of this strange Dream wanted to throw him off. Well, it was certainly working!

He clutched onto it as the lady—Aglaea—introduced himself. He didn't know if he could fight, but he did know that he could at least do this. Misha swallows down the lump in his throat.

"I-I'm Misha! I'm a bellhop from the Reverie, and I—wah!!!"

His introduction was cut short by the sudden movement of one of their foes, who surged towards them in the moment of lull. Misha once again let his instinct guide him. He stepped forward, shut his eyes, and swung the sword like he did his broom.

A sword is much heavier than a broom, of course, and Misha near loses his grip on the hilt (which would have been devastating, as it would have flown and smacked someone else) but against all odds, he manages to hit three of the four fiends cleanly. As his blade collided with them, they froze, so similarly to the way the big bad did earlier.

Misha lowered his sword. He stared incredulously at his hands, then at the still figures that he had cut.

"Oh... it worked this time!"

And he wasn't even trying...

✧ ;- epiméno

Spiral Abyss, Team 5 : Floor 2

[dreamblazed]

Their enemies' onslaught was vicious. Their blades gleamed despite the corridor's relative dimness, and Misha found himself at the mercy of the metal as it swept across the room in arcs. But whatever rips were torn through his uniform would not be as bad as the way the enemies chose to go for the gray-haired lady.

Misha found her scary. She had picked him up so easily, then just as dismissively set him back down. She moved and yelled with a loudness that went beyond sound reverberating through the air—it was as though the very core of the Universe vibrated. Still, she's not scary enough for him to become detached. She was hurt, she was wounded—and somehow, she froze. Just like the big bad from before.

His heart pounded, and before he really knew what he was doing, he found himself stepping in front of her. One of the Antimatter Legion fighters, the one clad in silver, looked just about ready to strike. Misha didn't want it to.

"Y-you've done enough to her! Please stop!"

[1 energy] Misha 8.5/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on Voidranger Distorter 11/28HP [Roll: 16, Hit! -1HP] Voidranger Distorter 10/28HP and is inflicted with Cryo. [1 energy] Misha 8.5/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on Voidranger Distorter 10/28HP [Roll: 4, Hit! -1HP] Voidranger Distorter 9/28HP  [1 energy] Misha 8.5/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on Voidranger Distorter 9/28HP [Roll: 13, Hit! -1HP] Voidranger Distorter 8/28HP [1 energy] Misha 8.5/10HP uses Normal Attack: E—Excuse Me! on Voidranger Distorter 8/28HP [Roll: 4, Hit! -1HP] Voidranger Distorter 7/28HP

He held his broom horizontally and pushed his foe down. Then, he gripped it back by its handle and smacked its helmet with the bristles. Oh... was he beginning to fight like her? He didn't know. By this point, he was powered only by fear and instinct, every move borne from desperation as opposed to any sort of skill. But sometimes, it was within those fog of emotions that people found the best of themselves. A few more encounters like this, and Misha might just strike gold.

@herrschicken @futureforetold

✧ ;- di velluto

spiral abyss 2025 team 5; floor 1

[dreamblazed]

He followed the women as they went outside, abandoning his trolley but taking the broom. Though the moment long passed, he was still reeling from what he had done. What kind of power was it? Certainly not the Nameless', though he's not sure if someone like him could ever hope to conjure the strength of the Trailblaze. He thought it could have been something similar to Clockie's clockwork, but he'd have to save the theories for later—the more urgent question to answer was whether or not he could do it again.

Well he definitely tried to: the operative word being tried.

When they entered the new corridor and faced new enemies, Misha watched as the gray haired lady conjured up an illusion, and the woman in the dress summoned a mannequin. They called upon such powers so effortlessly; gracefully, even. The woman in the dress even complimented him! So all that they did, he tried to emulate. He faced their foes, ignoring the way his heart shook as he saw them, and valiantly swung his broom.

Misha 10/10HP rolls 3 energy

[3 Energy] Misha 10/10HP uses Elemental Burst: G—Gonna Be Late! on Voidranger Distorter 21/28HP and 6 random enemies

[-4HP, Voidranger Distorter 17/28, -1HP Voidranger: Reaver 25.5/28HP, -1HP Antibaryon 12.5/15HP, -1HP Baryon B 12.5/15HP]

[Roll: 2, 3, 4 = No Freeze!]

Super-conduct triggers on Voidranger: Distorter, Voidranger: Reaver, Antibaryon, and Baryon B

No Counterattack!

"Uh… F-Freeze!"

Was the yelling the trigger last time? Probably not, because this go-around, his broom simply struck them on their armored plates. Some of them staggered back, while the rest looked quite unimpressed. Misha felt something inside him deflate.

"Oh no… It didn't work…"

@mrch7th

✧ ;- di velluto

spiral abyss 2025 team 5; floor 1