Thalassa
I worry this is how I’m always gonna feel.
The mud pulls out its special power ranger moves, the semi-dried patch fizzling over with a new layer of wet mud. It ripples in a motion that looks a lot like flexing - and maybe laughing? Whatever it's doing, Thal doesn't appreciate it, and she unknowingly voices Asta's thoughts, groaning as she glares useless daggers at the pile of refuse. "This is so stupid."
She watches as Asta's cane whips out, severing an arm(?) only for it to reform in a bubbling of brown goo. Trying to stop the progression, she threads another ring of fire around the appendage, only for it to dry then reshape in a frustration display of resilience. It has her lips pulling back as she ducks a ball of mud thrown their way.
Sheathing the dagger she'd instinctually pulled at some point, Thal cracks her knuckles and looks to her partner in crime, a dangerous glint of fangs. "Maybe one of us can block the rain while the other torches the thing?"
*
She watches as Asta's cane whips out, severing an arm(?) only for it to reform in a bubbling of brown goo. Trying to stop the progression, she threads another ring of fire around the appendage, only for it to dry then reshape in a frustration display of resilience. It has her lips pulling back as she ducks a ball of mud thrown their way.
Sheathing the dagger she'd instinctually pulled at some point, Thal cracks her knuckles and looks to her partner in crime, a dangerous glint of fangs. "Maybe one of us can block the rain while the other torches the thing?"
*
But nothing lasts. I know the deal.
