#prompt22

[iracarterart]

#Prompt22 #collagetober23 #INSTRUMENT #marianneburgerstudio @marianneburgerstudio Chinese Instruments

[writtenbykat]

Mischief Night (Jilytober Day 22)

Prompt: Lily shows the marauders muggle Halloween tricks @jilytoberfest

“Muggles celebrate Halloween too?” James asked, incredulous. 

“Of course they do!” 

“But they don’t even know about ghosts and trolls, and the like.” 

“Well, it’s more of a superstitious holiday,” Lily clarified. “It has origins in many different cultures. It was believed to be a Gaelic tradition, but was then influenced by the spread of Christianity. The version today is most similar to the Christian ideology, but really the version they celebrate today is more about dressing up in costumes, playing little pranks, and getting candy.” 

“They play pranks, and are rewarded for it with candy?” Sirius chimed in. 

“Well there’s this tradition of Miggy Night–Mischief Night,” she clarified, “I don’t know all the details of its origin, but because of the old religious beliefs surrounding Halloween– Muggles thought little gremlins and creatures came out to play tricks. And muggle children used it as an excuse to behave badly, then blame it on the spirits of Halloween. Now, it’s just the day before Halloween and people play little tricks on one another. They don’t really believe all the stuff about evil and creatures, but it’s tradition now.” 

Sirius’ eyes lit up, and he glanced at James meaningfully. “Well I, for one, think it’s about time to introduce some more muggle traditions here at Hogwarts.” 

“Oh no you don’t!” Lily protested, “I was just explaining that Muggles have Halloween traditions of their own. Wizards don’t have a monopoly on the holiday.” 

“Relax, Evans,” Sirius chided, “I won’t do anything too crazy. Just a few harmless pranks, really.” His face contorted to the picture of innocence, but Lily clearly wasn’t fooled for a second if her firm glare was anything to go by. 

“On a completely unrelated note, I just remembered Prongs and I have somewhere we need to be!” 

“We do?” James asked. 

“Yeah, mate. Remember?” Sirius emphasized, “Really important things to do.” James rolled his eyes at his friend’s overt scheming, but bid Evans goodbye with a transparent excuse about running quidditch plays. 

She only rolled her eyes and returned to her work. “None of these ‘harmless pranks’ better reach me!” she called after them. 

Over the next week, he and the other marauders planned out their various tricks to celebrate the muggle Halloween tradition. They’d planned a few for the whole school, but little did his fellow marauders know– but he’d planned a few for them as well. 

The first of his tricks went off without a hitch. 

It was announced by Sirius’ infuriated yell. “Prongs! What the hell did you do to my shampoo?” He stormed out of the bathroom, towel loosely wrapped around his waist– his hair a brilliant gleaming platinum. 

“Happy miggy night!” James called, escaping the dorm before Sirius could retaliate. 

The next was a group effort. With lots of scheming and sneaking, and a little bribery to a few of the house elves: the entirety of Slytherin house arrived at breakfast only to have their ties and robes change color from green to blue, red, or yellow. Now all sporting uniforms of the three other houses, the Slytherins grew increasingly irritated. Especially when they discovered that any attempt to charm their robes back to normal only resulted in a different house color, now their hair changing color to match. 

The marauders had to exit the great hall quickly, unable to conceal their laughter. They were followed by a volley of hexes and jinxes from the Slytherin table– the students having no doubt who had been responsible for their color changing appearances. 

James found he loved mischief night. So much so, that he had no qualms spreading “mischief night” to an all day event. 

They’d charmed Filch’s shoes with an untraceable extension charm. Every time he stepped down a new corridor, the charmed shoes released a handful of stink bombs– not detonating until he’d reached the end of the hallway. He spent his entire afternoon cleaning up stink bombs, and was unable to catch the culprit responsible– even though it seemed like they were following his every step. 

Peter found that none of his school supplies seemed to obey the laws of gravity. One second he’d be taking notes in transfiguration, the next his parchment was flying in the air. McGonagall had scolded him thrice for not taking down important information for N.E.W.T.s. 

Remus took a large bite out of a chocolate bar– only to find it had been replaced and transfigured from a bar of soap. He spent the rest of the afternoon hiccupping bubbles. 

Lily observed this all with mild amusement and a roll of her eyes. “They’re going to get you back, you know,” she’d said to James, watching Peter’s parchment fly away from him for the fourth time that day– despite his best efforts. 

“I’d like to see them try,” James responded jovially. And try they had. He’d successfully avoided a series of unsuccessful pranks from his fellow marauders all day. An edible jelly legs jinx slipped into his tea had resulted in Remus unable to get his legs to cooperate, after James switched their cups at breakfast. A vial of some solution missed James by a fraction of an inch, and only due to his seeker-quick reflexes. He’d dodged the mystery vial, but its perpetrator hadn’t been so lucky. Sirius had spent the rest of the day with his (newly platinum blonde) hair pasted down to his head– unable to do anything about it. James laughed, running his hands through his hair and strutting off down the corridor. Poor Pete hadn’t even been able to finish his attempt at James, before he found himself sticking to every surface he touched. 

No, try as they might, the other marauders hadn’t been able to get him back for all of mischief night (day). 

The next morning James woke, feeling well rested, and ignoring the murderous glares thrown his way by his roommates. By lunch they seemed to have forgiven him, and were back to their normal cheerful selves. By night they were all joking as usual, Sirius even complementing the ingenious of James’ mischief day pranks. 

He smiled to himself as he got ready for the Halloween feast, and subsequent party after. The feast passed quickly and uneventfully, other than the flask of firewhiskey the marauders had smuggled down to spike their goblets of pumpkin juice. 

“I’m really glad we’re all friends,” James said, as they made their way to Gryffindor tower for the annual booze fueled Halloween party. “You guys are just the best. Although you didn’t manage to get me on mischief day!” 

Remus, Sirius, and Peter shared a knowing look, but laughed along. 

They all helped themselves to the drinks, and he must not have eaten enough because it seemed like the liquor was making his lips looser than normal. 

“I don’t really like you very much,” James informed a fifth year boy, who had been doing his best to imitate James and the other marauders all year. The boy constantly dogged their steps and was attempting to pull off the same pranks they had in their fifth year. The boy’s face went slack, and James realized he’d spoken out loud. “I am so sorry!”  he apologized, “It’s just that you’re quite annoying, following us around all the time. Just be your own person, mate.” He slapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stop the word vomit. “Sorry!” he called after the boy’s retreating figure. 

“You should wear your hair like that more often.” 

“I had a crush on you in third year!” 

“I think you’re pretty fit, for a bloke.” 

“I do think I look pretty cool, playing with that snitch.” 

The words just wouldn’t stop spilling out of him. 

After one too many unintentional truths, James retreated to his room– determined not to do any more damage tonight. 

“Potter? You in here?” a dangerously soft and familiar voice called. 

She was the last person he wanted to talk to in his current state, and tried his best to stay silent. “Yeah, in here,” his voice betrayed him again. 

Lily Evans pulled back the hangings around his bed and took a seat next to him. 

“Are you okay? It’s not like you to leave a party early.” 

“No,” he confessed honestly, “I keep saying things to people that I don’t mean to say. They’re true, but I really don’t mean to say them. Must’ve had too much to drink.” 

“Hmmm,” she hummed, noncommittally. “Like you keep spitting out the truth, no matter how hard you fight it?” He nodded. “Potter, do you know the effects of veritaserum?” 

“Yes,” the answer fell from his lips– understanding following soon after. “You’re saying the boys spiked my drink, Evans?” She nodded her confirmation. 

“Don’t worry about it too much,” she said, “The effects of the potion should wear off in a few hours. And I don’t think anyone was too offended by anything you said tonight.” 

“Good. Gah! That’s just humiliating.” he threw his arms over his face in a belated attempt to conceal his blushing cheeks. She let out a light laugh at his obvious embarrassment. “I think I’ll just hide away here until it wears off then,” he said resignedly. 

She was quiet for a moment. He removed his hands from his face to glance at her in question. “Do you have any deep dark secrets you’d like to confess about me?”

He felt his heart race into overdrive and fought to keep his lips pressed shut. He and Evans had just become friends this year. They had been leaning towards that something more lately, but he didn’t want to come on too strong, in case she didn’t feel the same way. 

“I–” he tried to force the truth down. “I really–”. He clamped a hand over his mouth as if that could prevent the truth from spilling out. “I really like you Evans. Like I like you a lot.” He couldn’t stop the torrent of truth now that he’d started. “I’ve liked you since I was twelve years old, and would pull on your plaits to get your attention. And I wanted to give you space, and we’ve become friends this year! And I’ve loved being your friend, but I have feelings for you, Lily. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I’d understand if–” 

He was cut off as Lily leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his rambling mouth. The kiss lingered for a moment before she leaned back slightly, their noses still brushing. “I like you too, you daft idiot,” she said, and kissed him again. 

James knew he would have been rambling incoherently, if  every single thought hadn’t flown out of his head at the feeling of being snogged by Lily Evans. 

“Well that didn’t work at all how we’d planned,” complained Sirius from where they eavesdropped outside the dormitory door. 

Remus just gave a shrug. “There’s always next year.”

Read on AO3 or FFN

And as always let me know what you thought!!

Also: I have a very busy weekend coming up, so the next few chapters might be a little late, but i’ll do my best to catch up and keep on schedule!! sorry in advance! 

[eyesofsteelandsky]

FFxivWrite 2021 Prompt 22: Fluster

Despite running a business on the outer edge of the city and frequent visits to her parents with the kids, it had become something of a rarity for Brem to actually walk through Gridania proper. Most of all without having a specific task to get to. A bit of nostalgic indulgence had the air pirate walking the paths of her youth. No city had been left entirely untouched by the Calamity, but just how much of the place felt unchanged from her time as a child did bring on a smile.

In the midst of that aimless stroll though she came upon a small procession of armored Wailers that turned out to be the guard around a padjal. Not the elder seedseer herself, but one of the other ‘lucky’ few children of the forest. Not that she had reasons to fear the authorities in the Shroud, but habit did leave the air pirate giving the group plenty of room. One errant bit of motion did catch her eye however; a wobbling of yellowish orange.

Flying around the padjal was a moogle chattering away with the young looking woman. Brem had of course seen the occasional post moogle, though always chose not to interfere with their work, but this was a first proper glimpse of one of the Shroud’s most adorable residents. Her gaze was locked upon the creature, fascinated by it’s every movement. The bounce of it’s flight, the bobble of it’s pom as it spoke so excitedly, none of it escaped her.

In the midst of all that staring though the creature seemed to feel that eye upon it, eventually turning to look directly over Brem’s way. Like a peeping tom caught in the act, she immediately forced her eye elsewhere with a rush of crimson up into her cheek, and by the time she worked up the nerve to look back the moogle’s way it’s attention had already return to it’s padjal traveling partner.

[splat-dragon]

Whumptober 2020, #22: Do These Tacos Taste Funny To You?: "Poisoned"

"I am the one who’s willing to do what it takes to seize my moment. Whatever it takes." - Ernesto De la Cruz

When Arthur and Hosea start making Dutch wise to Micah's machinations, Micah's willing to do whatever it takes to stay at the top.

@whumptober2020

Micah had thought about using oleander sage.

 It would be easy to get his hands on, after all - more than one member of the camp used it, covered their weapons in it, and it wouldn’t be hard to find if he rode down to Lemoyne - a decent ride, but he didn’t want to risk buying any in a store.

 And if Morgan’s death was linked to oleander well, it would be easy to pass it off as an accident. ‘He wasn’t careful enough handling it,’ they’d think, ‘he must have nicked himself with his knife.’

  But he’d decided against it.

 What made oleander so appealing made it risky, too. Half the damn camp kept an antidote made solely for oleander on their persons even if they didn’t work with it - with how much it was used in camp, there was just too much of a risk not to. The damned old man kept seven vials of the antidote among his things, ‘worried’ as he was.

 And even if they didn’t have any in camp, even if there wasn’t a good twenty antidotes floating around, oleander didn’t work fast enough for them to not be able to bolt for the nearest town and get some.

  He’d contemplated hemlock - it killed quick, and was easy to get ahold of, and had no antidote. But he wasn’t sure how to get it into Morgan, and even if he managed it wouldn’t be so easily handwaved.

  It had been one of the old man’s books that gave him the idea, and that gave him some sort of perverse pleasure. He fully intended on removing the man once Morgan was out of the way - Matthews was turning Dutch’s ear away from him, but it was safer to remove Morgan first, he just had to be very careful and plan his timing to the second - and knowing that the man’s book would rid them of the man’s ‘son’ (he sneered) had him biting down a laugh.

 But regulations had shut down the trade of arsenic, once everywhere, and he’d had to have Joe and Cleet go sniffing for him. It was Joe that finally showed up, a vial of it in his hand and demanding more money than he was wanting to spend (and, knowing the man, more than it had cost) but if it would get rid of Morgan then it was worth it, so he took the vial, shoved the money in the man’s hand and sent him on his way.

  The morning after they celebrated Sean’s homecoming, Hosea found Arthur sitting on his cot, cradling his head in his hands. Considering that, no matter how hungover he was he was always up on his horse and gone or, at least, helping with chores come morning, he approached him, calling out “Alright son?” and offering him a cup of coffee - that always helped to perk him up.

 Arthur looked up at him, shook his head at the coffee before seeming to regret it, going pale and digging the heels of his palms into his temples, “Fine, just got a headache.”

[myhusbandsasemni]

Whumptober Day 22: Drugged (Anisha Flight)

@thethistlegirl​ @doubi-ixi​ @linariouswrites​

Cute cute cute dragon under cut

Do these tacos taste funny to you?

...................................

Anisha accepted the cup from the man sitting across the table from here. He had been very accommodating to her rule to not drink alcohol, wine, or tea. 

“So, you say you want my kingdom to join in the alliance under the First Council?” Lord Verti asked, tilting his head.

Anisha nodded. Many of her previous meetings with people for the First Council had been uncomfortable having to hold her tongue and keep her stories to herself. But Lord Verti had encouraged her to speak as much as she felt comfortable. He asked all the right questions, expressed that he loved her tangents, and voiced his own opinions and debated with Anisha a little.

Anisha laughed as she sipped on her juice and was having such a good time she didn’t notice the strange heaviness in her stomach until she saw Lord Verti’s expression falter. He blinked a couple of times. Anisha could see sweat bead on his forehead, but then she started to lose control of the scales in her eyes, so her world became blurry as her sight reverted to its natural state, which is to say, so blind she couldn’t even see the eyes in Lord Verti’s face anymore.

“Drugged,” she croaked, trying to stand up. Her legs said, nah, and she fell onto the table and slid to the floor. She laid there and groaned. She felt extremely sensitive. Sensitive enough to pinpoint exactly when Lord Verti’s arm hit the floor, and then when his head made contact with the wood. She still couldn’t see. She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see dark forms standing over her. 

She felt the hands on her sensitive arms, though. She was certain she could feel every groove in the people’s fingers. She couldn’t seem to hear anything though.

She faded into a mess of sensations overwhelming her brain. It was like her brain was no longer ignoring sensations it usually ignored. She could feel her clothes constantly. It was weighing on her, almost to the point of pain. She probably sobbed when her arms were pulled behind her back and tied together with rope. She cried when they put something around her neck. She cried when she felt the heavy tears rolling down her face.

Blessedly, she passed out soon after that.

………………….

Anisha woke slowly and groaned when she felt chains on her wrists and throat. Never her favorite thing to wake up to. She felt sick, and, to prove it, she rolled over in the cage and threw up in the handy dandy bucket she found by her head. She rolled back over and just breathed, fading in and out and waiting for the effects of the drugs to wear off. She cracked her eyes open and found she had some control over her sight again. She focused it as much as she could and investigated where that horrid retching noise was coming from.

Lord Verti, now wearing rags and looking very very sick, was making use of the bucket in his cage across the room from Anisha. Anisha lay her head back and waited a little longer. 

She heard noises near herself and tipped her head again. A man and woman walked into the room and examined Anisha and Lord Verti. Anisha gave both of them a thumbs up and a grin. She felt instantly better when she saw their confusion. She thrived off of it. 

“Where…. Where are we?” Lord Verti’s voice was hoarse from throwing up.

Anisha had to say, she was impressed by the accuracy that was used to shove a pole through the openings in the cage and slam into Lord Verti’s ribs. Anisha made her own tiny sound of complaint as Verti coughed and clutched at his ribs, gagging again.

The man bent down and grabbed Anisha by the hair, dragging her to the edge of the cage. Being slightly dead in the scalp, a gift from a childhood of brushing ratted hair without a care, Anisha let him without even moving to help the process. She stared into his face, taking on a dead eyed stare. This seemed to creep the man out and he quickly let her go. She grinned.

The two left as quietly as they came.

“What do they want?” Verti asked, voice cracking.

“IDK,” Anisha said, rolling over and snuggling into her wing. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

[sodorart]

Inktober 2017 Prompt 22: Trail

[hicchaninwonderland]

Work number 22 for #inktober2017 #trail! #inktober #intober2017day22 #prompt22 #prompttrail #fingerprint #footprint #animal #wolf #blue #blueink

[hinter-dem-spiegel]

Inktober52 - Prompt22 - "Swimming Pool"

+ Mermay + exorbitant sunny weather

[eyesofsteelandsky]

FFxivWrite2020 Prompt 22: Argy-Bargy

The mushy globs of a spoonful of smashed fruit splatter along the metal half of the roe’s face after a furious, tiny fist slammed into the underside of the utensil she was trying to offer the grumpy gecko’te boy. She might have been proud of his swing if it wasn’t the third time in a row he’d made a mess of the mouthful of food she was trying to get him to take. “C’mon now.. you gotta eat. You want to grow up big an’ strong to be a pirate, right? Means you gotta eat!” The words are offered in as close to soft and soothing as her smoker-tainted voice could get, even trying to get a rumble going to mock a purr to try and help calm him down.

Alvin’s calculated response to these soothing tactics was to let out another scream that seemed almost impossible to come out of such a tiny pair of lungs. His ears were pinned back against his head and those chubby little limbs were all set to chaotic flailing, swatting any attempt to get any more of the food anywhere near him. Brem set the bowl and spoon aside for a moment and instead tried to offer him the blue airship toy that was normally his favorite. This too was summarily smacked and sent bouncing off onto a nearby cushion. With another chest emptying scream to follow.

Even with the fruity past still running down the metal plate, she opts instead to sweep the toddler up into her arms, hoping that height and some bouncing might help calm him down. Unfortunately for her, his mood wasn’t altitude or bobble related, which now has him swinging his arms directly against her while trying to fidget himself free to get back to screaming in peace. More of the soft, cooing sounds start to fall out of the pale woman’s lips, hoping for anything that might try and calm the raging one year old. One solution does briefly cross her tired mind but gets immediately pushed aside.

“Can’t acorn bomb the baby.. can’t acorn bomb the baby..”

[bluecrownedbullets]

Prompt #22

Open Prompt:

So thanks to frosty-butt's post this is an open prompt to "What is Love/A Night At the Roxbury"

This basically sums up why in case you're not familiar with the movie and the reference.

there is is also the SNL Skit "Secret Video" with Jim Carrey if no one has watched it before.

It'd be awesome for someone to do this in cosplay or however they like.

[eyesofsteelandsky]

FFxivWrite 2019 Prompt 22: Pupa

Another Einar story today. This one’s after the confrontation in the Bargain prompt. Might be slightly odd, but I don’t know of any CW things to prompt for. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The young viera continued to keep their eyes and ears on high alert as they worked their way deeper into the jungle. The generally knew better than to be wandering off entirely on their own without telling a soul, but this was work that others weren’t ready to hear about. Not yet, anyway. The trip wasn’t helped by the somewhat baggy, ill-fitting clothing hanging from the teen’s form catching on every branch and thorn, but it too was sadly not optional. Thankfully only another handful of moments had them at their destination only an hour or two away from the village proper. Before that grinning face was a starkly clear pool hidden within the dense plant life. For most there might be a few light motes to be seen, but for one of the Gifted the flow of aether off of it was nearly too radiant to look directly into.

Dropping the pack brought along next to the edge of the water, Einar takes a few moments to strip out of those lose clothes before leaping directly into the water in a blur. Even with the heat of the jungle around it, that pool itself was cool to the touch, almost shockingly so when getting in over one’s own head, but a little chill wasn’t going to put off the plans any longer. This was going to take every scrap of aether that could be spared, and there was no more abundant place to be found that wasn’t highly trafficked by the rest of the village.With one final deep breath, the viera releases the racing thoughts to instead let their Gifted senses seep out and into the abundant source of energy. At first it’s all the more overwhelming than the frigid shock of the water, nearly sweeping the young healer away in the current, but with the practice beaten into them over the last few moons it doesn’t quite drag them under.

The viera was a fixture in the stream now, like a stone sitting in the current and forcing it to part around it. All that was left now was to start slowly wrestling control of that energy stream bit by bit, not unlike building a dam. Molding the flow with slight adjustments like trying to pull the lost aether back into an injured being, though this time it was more akin to building a funneling force to drive it directly into their own body. As the flow finally breaks over and starts to crash fully into Einar’s own, the unexpected fullness of aether nearly pushes the viera back fully into their more mundane senses, threatening for a few moments to shove them under the onslaught’s influence. Once again, there’s a clawing for control that the teen wasn’t prepared for, but stubborn desire to see things through was enough of an anchor to leverage from to stable back out. A grin slips onto their half-glazed features after a few moments of regaining control. It was time.

What came next was beyond anything the elder ever taught them, or would ever consider teaching anyone for that matter. By anyone else’s measure, Einar’s body was perfectly healthy, and in no need of the blessings of a Gifted touch guiding it. But that was a view too limited for the young viera. Traditions and expectations had carved out so much of what their life was supposed to be. No one bothered to ask if was what the teen had wanted. Born into being male, their fate was set. The discovery of the Gift put forth the skills they were to study and develop on a specific path. The few grasps of choice and freedom, like the company of Mjara and Shar, were seen by others as distractions and childish delusions. But here, in this overflowing aetheric womb, the Gift could set things right. To make things the way they were meant to be.

With hands that extend well past the viera’s physical bounds started to drive the aether into new paths, sending it flooding into spaces to encourage flesh that was healthy to try and mend and rebuild, reshaping it through the course of flooding restorative energies in to push past the normal bounds. Other spots were pulled inward instead, using the currents to wash out existing mass to push it into the stream elsewhere. On occasion parts would have to be torn open to be properly rebuilt, and done over and over again to allow this false healing to do it’s work. And every bit of it was like gouts of flame running through every blood vessel in their body, the searing agony of being shattered and forced back together time and again.There was no half efforts here though, and even as blackness crept in on Einar’s conscious mind, they knew there was only one chance of getting this right. To make them see who they really were, what they would do to have the life they wanted to have.

Before blacking out they pushed themselves back into their normal senses, and started to pull them self up out of the water to collapse near the water’s edge. Almost immediately the convulsions of aether sickness set in, fighting against Einar’s attempts to drag a few ‘borrowed’ goods from the healing garden to try and offset the worst of it. Once the worst of the quakes had passed, the viera’s eyes turn down to the changes in their form, and a pained smile took to their lips. They didn’t quite get everything they they wished done, but there was no mistaking them for a masculine figure.

She might not be able to stand up just yet, but she would be coming home to stay.

[eyesofsteelandsky]

FFxivWrite2018 Prompt 22: Novice

Another guest star role by Tempest Lion! Please go have a look back at Prompt 11 if you want a short description of her and a picture! There’s violence against a bird.

The blue haired keeper picks her short sword back up off the ground, having just dropped it trying to do the ‘spin your blade in your hand’ move that she thought looked so cool when other people did it. Thankfully, the only one around to see it was her target and clearly wasn’t going to be allowed to live to talk about it. An almost mocking wark came from her foe as the fat dodo turn it’s attention away from the girl and back to the pumpkins it was currently pecking into.

“Cease, thief! Your fence ruining, punkin’ munchin’ days are over!” With as many clanks from her bronze armor as possible to join that announcement, the tiny adventurer came charging forward with a battlecry, turning what could have been a simple execution of a wild animal menace into an actual fight. Now that it was threatened, the dodo that was several times her size and weight reated around, dodging her first haphazard thrust and delivering several hard pecks onto the soup-bowl like helm she was wearing. By the time she’s got her shield up for cover her ears are already ringing, distracting her from the very exposed dodo belly in front of her. Thinking back to lessons she’d been given about fighting people and not birds, she takes a swipe at the hardened stretch of foot in front of her, cracking it slightly in a couple of spots and making the bird wark out again.

“I have you now! Prepare to meet your maker!” Throwing her weight behind the move, the little miqo’te shield bashes the bird directly into it’s chest, following up on her brief distraction with what amounts to mostly a strike to further rile the thing up. She’s rewarded with a body check from the creature that sends her tumbling head over heels backwards through the dirt. She’d caught a rock briefly along the way and had a nice cut on her lip that she lapped the blood from as she stared angrily up at the bird. Another shouty cry rips from her lips as she charges back in, and with a faint glow to her swinging arm she drives through a trio of mildly aetheric slashes at that rounded belly. Her sword is too short to cut much past fat on that first volley, but the dodo is still reeling from the blow as she recollects herself.

Raising her sword up above her head as if she was trying to collect the motes of that spent aether for a finishing blow, her bronze blade barely more that shimmers in the sun light before she rears back and thrusts into one of the cross points of her prior cuts, getting nearly up to her elbow in the wound to drive in to properly vital organs. With one last squawk of defeat, the dodo’s weight sags under it’s impending collapse. Pulling her arm from the corpse takes a foot pressed up against the belly, but eventually she stands sweaty and triumphant over her kill, already plotting what she was going to do with the gil from her leve plate once she finished up.