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       #Post#: 3576--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Weaver
       By: PLO Date: March 25, 2018, 9:10 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       PLO wonders briefly if the night was a dream up to this point,
       from which he wakes upon a glorious golden cushion. Fit for a
       prince of his stature, soft as a feather, comfy as all get-
       And then nope, it most certainly hasn't been a dream, he finds
       as he's dropped to the ground with a shout and a thump. He
       groans as he stands, taking a look around at the debris strewn
       around. He thinks he hears what might be an apology. He responds
       with a grumble that might be a thank you or could just as easily
       be a vague threat to the way of life for somepony and their
       descendants for 12 generations to come, until his eyes alight
       on-
       Yes, him. That stallion. The one in armor. Oh, he's going to
       pay. Er...which one? He's seeing double...and they're identical.
       His anger mounts as he glares at each of them in turn, charging
       up another bolt of lightning. Instead of hurling it off, though,
       he courses the electricity through his body and, picking one of
       the images of the stallion, gallops at full tilt towards it,
       yelling his rage in a wordless cry, brilliant yellow bolts
       arcing away from him and leaving scorch marks along the
       surrounding debris.
       #Post#: 3577--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Weaver
       By: Mana Burn Date: March 25, 2018, 10:08 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Foxtrot’s landing throws the stallions attempts to finish
       pulling himself together off, the soft pulse of light that runs
       through the inlays at the impact at least being enough for him
       to force himself back into a standing position and immediately
       start to jump and buck in attempts to remove his passenger.
       Seemingly capable of handling the added weight, the stallion
       shouts demands for Foxtrot to get off as he jumps and throws his
       shoulders into whatever is nearby to try and shake him, the
       impacts and his stomping all brightening the inlays at a slow
       but steady rate and causing each to carry more force than the
       last.
       Clearly occupied, the stallion wouldn’t notice PLO’s return to
       the fray until he was already going full speed. With a hindered
       ability to avoid the oncoming charge due to the encumbrance of
       Foxtrot’s piggybacking, he’d be unable to get out of the way and
       instead take the hit full on. Because of his armor is would be
       like running into a wall and as such the stallion wouldn’t be
       moved far but he would get another wonderful jolt of electricity
       that would of course arc towards anything still clinging to him
       as well. Stealing away his footing this would lead him to being
       dropped yet again.
       “What is it with you people and electricity!?” he’d cry out in
       frustration and pain as he slowly rolled himself over to ready a
       lagging attempt to stand.
       Meanwhile, the Pegasus would groan at the response she’d heard
       from the griffon and swear under her breath. Keeping an eye out
       for another pounce she’d avoid the next attack from Broadshield
       as the swing went too wide and missed, instead sticking into the
       crate she’d taken as cover with a thunk and be buried several
       inches deep into the wood. Reacting, she beat her wings to push
       herself backwards and drew yet another arrow in the process. A
       mere second later she was several yards away and fired her next
       shot aimed downwards at the ground with the impact giving off
       the sound of shattering glass as bits bounced up at an angle
       towards Broadshield. This would be harmless, but the real threat
       would be in the splash of an irritating liquid solution
       following the same trajectory. While non-lethal, the solution’s
       effect would make itself instantly known if it made contact on
       any part of the body.
       Itching. An insanely intense itching that would flash over the
       contact area and not give any signs of letting up. Heaven forbid
       it reach the eyes as it would already be enough to serve as
       quite the distraction for anyone trying to hold their own in a
       fight.
       As for the griffon and the ponies she had been causing trouble
       for, she had continued to pin Thunder and turned her head to
       check on Glory at the time that Tinder had made her run. Making
       contact, Tinder would succeed in removing the griffon’s hold
       over the stallion and knock her aside, Thunder coughing and
       catching his breath now that he was freed. Using a wing to right
       herself and twist away from Tinder she’d narrowly avoid a slash
       across the chest before having Glory add herself into the mix
       and manage to get tangled up well enough to drag her down to the
       ground. Landing on her side with an audible “oof!” she didn’t
       stay there long as she shoved herself into a roll that lead to a
       kick back to a stand once she had her feet beneath her.
       With a defensive slash she’d deny a pursuit and take a step back
       with the plan being to re-evaluate her options now that she was
       so heavily outnumbered, but this would be cut short by Thunder’s
       re-entry into the melee as he landed quite rudely in front of
       the two mares who’d helped him in order to once again engage the
       griffon himself. As was the case before he was making mistakes
       out of anger and the griffon could see it, meaning his efforts
       were achieving little and her patience and care taken to not get
       surrounded were the only things keeping her retaliation at bay.
       It soon became clear however that without help he’d simply end
       up right back where he was a second ago but his aggressive
       desire to get back at the griffon was causing him to be a hazard
       for those who would try to assist as he was not taking their
       presence into account.
       #Post#: 3579--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Weaver
       By: Foxtrot Date: March 26, 2018, 10:42 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Despite all of the armored stallions best efforts, Foxtrot still
       clung like a magnet. He only spent enough energy to hang on; the
       rest was being charged. He had been building up one final surge
       to channel through the rebar still in tow. PLOs impact with them
       gave the agent much needed time; but the foreign electrical
       charge easily coursed through the metal pole and into the
       stallion. A surge of pain strikes for just a moment, but the
       other consciousness in his head worries about much more.
       'Fox! We can't discharge our magic! That current went through
       our body and affected your heartbe-'
       *Clank!*
       The one end of rebar is pocketed between some grooves between
       the armor plating. Foxtrot's hoof lights up as sparks start to
       travel down the stick. He looks over to his opponent to answer
       his question, "Because they have the most shocking results!"
       'FOX! NO!'[/I]
       In a bright flash and deafening pop, what looks like pure
       lightning erupts from the rebar in all directions. One bolt
       punches a hole in the ceiling, others fly across the room. Most
       are directed between the armored stallion and Foxtrot. Within
       the blink of an eye, the unicorn is sent flying across the barn,
       slamming into a wall with a thump. The rebar itself was heated
       to such high temperatures, what remained was a smoking slump
       still glued to the armor. Foxtrot is out cold, his heartbeat
       still.
       [i]'Damn it! I should have enough charge to...' The construct
       gathers whatever little magic the two have left and directs it
       through his body towards the station's heart. The body shudders
       as it tries to self defibrillate. No good. It happens again.
       This time, there's a pulse,  but it's uneven. The second
       consciousness takes over. Foxtrot's eyes open, pupils following
       white as the stallion struggles to lift a hoof. His voice sounds
       the same, yet artificial, like if spoken by a computer. "Just
       need... hoof onto... heart..." Sparks gather at his hoof. One
       concentrated shock through that is all that's needed. His hoof
       slowly lifts, but drops back down, he's too physically weakened
       to even move.
       #Post#: 3580--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Weaver
       By: Broadshield Date: March 27, 2018, 7:17 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Broadshield's knife swung wide and missed his target, embedding
       itself deep into the wood of the crate. Impossible to pull out
       in the middle of combat. It didn't matter to Broadshield, he
       could still kill without a weapon. He stared at the knife for
       only a second, but looked back to his target and saw she was
       several yards away, letting another arrow fly. Dropping down low
       to dodge it, and unknowingly a stray bolt of lighting, he didn't
       realize until it shattered on the ground of his mistake. Using
       his wing to shield his body and face, he felt the splash of
       liquid and the small shrapnel impact his sensitive wings. He had
       been shot several times during his career, the wounds on his
       body a testament to that. More than anything he constantly tried
       to protect his wing from any damage, as they were not only the
       most important part of a pegasus, and a soldier, but they were
       also a point of low pain resistance, so any sort of damage could
       be crippling.
       Drawing his wing away, he flashed a grin at the pegasus, "You
       really think that will sto-" he manages to say before he feels
       the tingling, before the feeling explodes all over his wing. A
       horrible itch on an incredibly sensitive part. Not a good
       combination. The pain he was experiencing now would be almost
       comparable to various interrogation training and torture
       situations he had been unfortunate enough to find himself in in
       the past. "RAAAAAHHHH!!!" he lets out an almost blood-curdling
       scream, banging his wing against the floor, violently scraping
       it on any sort of rough surface to relieve the itch. He didn't
       realize of course that to anyone else this formula would simply
       cause severe itching, but to him having it splash over a
       sensitive spot, it may as well have been acid. He continued to
       scratch at his wing using objects around him and his hooves, his
       wings at this point now turning into a bloody, molted mess. What
       was once vibrant maroon feathers, preened to present, was now a
       blood-stained mess of feathers, fur, wood chips, dirt, and a bit
       of exposed bone. The itch was now manageable, but it had come at
       a horrible cost. Broadshield stared down the pegasus, sweat
       plastered his face, turning his hair into a mop, covering one of
       his eyes, with a a glare fueled by pure anger, pain, and
       loathing that would make Tirek uneasy, and he growled "What...
       have... you... done!?" he says between pained breaths. "I'LL RIP
       YOUR F****** WING OFF FOR THAT!" he screams, now immediately
       charging her, uncaring of what happens next.
       #Post#: 3581--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Weaver
       By: Onyx Lotus Date: March 27, 2018, 12:34 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Nyx watched everything warily, her eyes widening as the armored
       stallion was thrown across the room. Seeing how weak Foxtrot
       seemed to be, she was about to head over to him and see what she
       could do to help, when a scream echoed across the barn, and her
       eyes fell on Broadshield and his wings. Blanching at his
       screamed threat towards the archer, Nyx sprinted over. As she
       ran, her horn glowed and a protective dome dropped over
       Broadshield's quarry before the enraged stallion could get to
       her. If Broadshield didn't stop and ran into it, it would give
       slightly to minimize damage, but it still wouldn't be a
       comfortable collision.
       "STOP!" She yelled as she ran. "NOPONY IS RIPPING ANYONE'S WINGS
       OFF!" Nyx was sure they could end this fight with minimal
       bloodshed. It seemed the enemy stallion was probably out for the
       count, maybe they could get his allies to surrender? No more
       harm had to be done. She reached Broadshield and the (hopefully)
       trapped archer."Calm down," she ordered the maroon stallion in a
       steely voice, and started crafting soft energy towels and trying
       to gently hold them against Boradshield's wings to slow the
       bleeding.
       #Post#: 3582--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Weaver
       By: Faded Glory Date: April 1, 2018, 8:58 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Glory clutches at the griffin's legs as best she can, but can't
       keep a firm hold amid the jumble of other ponies. She springs to
       her hooves, ready to leap in again at the first sign of an
       opening but is warded off by the griffin's quick slash. Then
       Thunder re-enters the fight and all hell breaks loose in the
       barn. Glory is forced to dive for cover as a flash of lightning
       sizzles past her, the mare taking her attention off the
       immediate threat to see just what is going on elsewhere. The
       armored stallion appears to be the source, or perhaps the focal
       point, of the lightning, and Foxtrot lies nearby, unmoving.
       Elsewhere, Nyx seems to have captured the archer, and is
       attempting to hold Broadshield off from her. Glory looks back at
       the griffin, who is once again easily dealing with Thunder.
       There's little chance of her getting into the fray herself with
       the stallion's disregard for everything else around him. She's
       torn between helping Thunder end the fight and going to check on
       Foxtrot, and hesitates for a few moments. In the end, her
       concern wins out, and she turns to run over to the collapsed
       stallion. She reaches him in time to see him try to do...
       something, with that weird magic of his. Looks like touch his
       hoof to his chest? She's a little wary of touching him given the
       sparks flying off his hoof, but she only hesitates for a moment
       before pressing his hoof against his chest.
       #Post#: 3583--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Weaver
       By: Nivalia Date: April 1, 2018, 10:04 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       It wouldn't take long for Nivalia to spot the lightning bolt
       pierce the night sky. Safe to assume that's where everyone is.
       Looking down, she's glad she made the trip back to grab her
       satchel of supplies. She's gonna need it. Still at the casual
       pace, the mare continues forward to find the mess that appears
       to be going down some distance away.
       #Post#: 3584--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Weaver
       By: PLO Date: April 2, 2018, 12:12 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       PLO crashes into his target, having properly identified it
       amidst the other wobbly copies his eyes and mind were reporting
       to him. The armor covering it is precisely as weak and fragile
       as he wanted it to be, and the impact sees him bouncing
       triumphantly back to fall into a victorious heap on the floor.
       "All...according to...plan*," he mumbles, lifting his head. Now
       if only the room would stop its celebratory spinning and
       jubilant oscillating...
       Then a bolt of electricity strikes him dead on, re-invigorating
       him. He lets out a booming laugh and leaps to his hooves, then
       falls over again with a loud groan as the merry-go-room hikes up
       in speed. "Cease this contraption...I wish to get off..."
       *Translator's note: Plan means plan
       #Post#: 3585--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Weaver
       By: Mana Burn Date: April 2, 2018, 9:18 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The Pegasus was surprised by the extreme reaction being
       displayed by Broadshield. He must have had some kind of odd
       allergy as this was not the intended result, but it mattered
       little to her. If he was going to mangle his own wings over it
       then that was his problem and it would only make avoiding him a
       lot easier as now she intended to simply take back to the air
       and watch him scurry about on the ground. Unfortunately, she
       would get distracted by the light show nearby and have her
       escape be hindered by the bubble that would limit her ability to
       fly and kept her stuck in place. Momentarily throwing her
       attention towards Onyx, she would fix her focus back on the
       upset Pegasus near her in case the bubble dropped to be best
       prepared for a swift flight.
       “What about now?!” she’d plead a second time at the sight of the
       stallion being given an impressive shock and then collapsing to
       the ground. It was clear that he was out of the fight as he
       wasn’t moving and showed no signs of trying, though the full
       extent of the damage couldn’t be determined unless someone took
       the time to check on him.
       The griffin, obviously taking note of the lightning and being
       none too pleased over having one of her people downed and the
       other stuck in a bubble, figured that this wasn’t working. On
       top of this the lightning now ran the risk of drawing legitimate
       attention from outside which would be a problem should they
       stumble upon this little skirmish.
       Dodging another rushed and angry swipe of Thunder’s wing blades
       and delivering a quick jab to his throat to occupy him with a
       lengthy coughing fit, she’d carry herself with her wings up and
       onto some of the now piles of rubble and destroyed things in the
       barn then pounce down the opposite side. There she landed atop
       Mana Burn, still unconscious and oblivious to everything going
       on around him. Grabbing his horn again, she ducked down and
       jerked his head up enough to muddy up the clarity of any shots
       taken at her as well as slip her swords edge under his jaw and
       against the neck. This was easily enough to repel any further
       charges from Thunder at least as he froze at the sight and could
       only glare daggers.
       “You! Red unicorn!” she spoke, tone indicating demands to follow
       as she started with Onyx and her corner of the barn, “drop the
       bubble and keep Wingless over there from mauling anyone! Waovumk
       kraa!” that last bit was apparently something for the Pegasus to
       understand as she reacted to it by instantly switching out her
       current arrow with one that boasted a clearly dangerous tip,
       serrated and nocked in preparation for things going further
       sideways.
       “Now I’m hoping to have ourselves a little talk,” the griffin
       continued, “but there’s a problem. See, all these weapons are
       making my adrenaline spike and its giving me the jitters. How’s
       about we drop some before my wrist slips? Especially you,
       Slinger,” her eyes flicked over towards Glory tending to
       Foxtrot, “Both. As far as you can throw them. And don’t anyone
       try and get crafty…” with a slight adjustment of her swords
       angle a small trickle of red ran out from beneath, a warning of
       how quickly and easily she could cause serious harm to Mana.
       Mana winced out of reflex and then let out a loud snore and
       mumbled something about benitoite.
       #Post#: 3588--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Weaver
       By: Foxtrot Date: April 4, 2018, 4:38 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Once Foxtrot's other consciousness feels his hoof on his chest,
       it vibrates as a pulse enters his heart. The stallion coughs and
       rolls onto his side, voice still sounding somewhat artificial.
       "T- thanks. I'm good,  j-" He coughs for a moment before finally
       steadying his breathing, "Catch my breath." By the time he gets
       up, his glowing eyes scan the situation the group now find
       themselves in. A hostage situation. His magical reserves are
       temporarily depleted. All he can do is play along. Getting his
       bearings, the hole in the roof actually comes as a surprise.
       Even more so when a dark figure swiftly and silently flies past
       it. Intent to keep the griffins attention to them, he trots, or
       rather hobbles over a few steps. "If you wanted to talk, you
       know you could've just started out with that? What do you even
       want?"
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