see you at the bottom - [COTC RAID + TAKEOVER]

[roan ;]

SOOTHSAYER ❝ ROAN ❞ THE TYPHOON

The ground was trembling. Shaking almost as badly as it had when the meteors had struck the ground. Roan had been within the temple, his blue eyes narrowed as he shifted throughout the various cubbies that held his herbs. His jaw was clenched, a full sense of anxiety running through him as he searched for things that would be of use to him. He had no way of knowing when the attack would finally arrive, and he needed to be ready to treat any wounds that came as a result of the oncoming battle. Unfortunately, it seemed as though he had no more time to prepare. There was an aggressive shaking of the earth beneath him, and it wasn't long before Stryker's call reached him. His ears pinned down briefly against his skull, and he found himself muttering to himself, "God, what a fucking prick." The soothsayer then shook his head vigorously from side to side, grabbing a last few pawfuls of herbs and shoving them into his satchel. He threw the bag over his shoulder as it usually was, slipping out of the temple and looking around to survey what was going on. Sure enough, the land had already erupted into the utter chaos of battle.

Long strides brought the medic out into the field, his gaze searching around to see if he could find anyone away from the fight who needed treatment. He kept his head down, not really wanting to have to deal with someone attacking with him. He was fairly sure he could hold his own, considering he had some decent fighting skills and electrical elementals on his side. Despite this, he knew he wouldn't last long against most of the fighters out here who far outweighed and outskilled him. However, Roan's attention would not be on healing for long – instead, his entire mind was torn away once he spotted Paintbrush. He froze upon seeing the other on the battlefield, anxiety and annoyance rushing through him as he bolted over as fast as his body could carry him. He nearly collided with the other's side as he shouted, his voice a hiss from the back of his throat, "Paintbrush, what the fuck are you doing out here? You... you're not supposed to be here! You should be back protecting the kids, or just staying safe! You're not supposed to be out here!" His voice was stubborn and surprisingly emotional, despite his best efforts to keep himself in line. He wasn't supposed to be like this.

Taking a deep and shaky breath inward, Roan made his way to Paintbrush's front, his smaller paws resting against the other's chest. His voice softened as he tried to push the other back, using his back legs for leverage, "You can't go out there, because you're going to get yourself hurt. I can't... I can't let you get hurt, okay? Cause I don't wanna have to heal your wounds, idiot..." He looked down briefly, his face burning as he refused to look Paint in the eyes, "I care... I care about you too much to deal with that. Hell, given a bit of time I could even... even maybe love you, alright? So don't go out there, please." Every instinct was telling him to pull away. Turn back, and shut his heart away so that he wouldn't lose anybody else. However, he couldn't do that. Not until he knew that Paintbrush was safe.

-----------------------

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, Michael had been trying to prepare for a fight as well. Instead of gathering herbs, the dealer had been training some NPCs, attempting to get them ready for the fight against the Coalition that was coming. When the ground began to shake, the thief felt his stomach plummet, nausea and anxiety passing over him. He wasn't going to run away, however. He couldn't just abandon The Typhoon when he was needed the most, and now was certainly one of these moments. So, even though he knew he was outmatched, the dealer turned towards the battlefield, rushing out with his ears pinned back and his one sight able eye trained forward. He snuck through most of those that were already fighting, knowing full well that he had little chance against them. Really, he wasn't battle capable at all. The only thing he had on his side was his earth elementals, but everything else was stacked against him. His small size, his blindness and deafness on one side, and his general lack of traditional fight training. There was a reason why he was a spy, and not a straight-up fighter. He preferred taking out enemies when they didn't know he was coming, instead of when they were on more even footing. It was an underhanded way of doing things, but that was essentially how the bobcat had lived his entire life.

The roar that echoed across the territory caused Michael's mismatched gaze to latch into the volcano, his heart sinking when he spotted the beast that stood there. At first glance, it was a creature of pure chaos and fury, but when one looked closer... Michael knew that beast. He knew those horns, and those scales, and the flames and lava that licked and poured forth from him. It was the same lava that had stained the ground when the fugitive's birthday gift had been left behind. If that really was Trygve... why was he fighting them? Why was he fighting his own family? Michael knew that Ry had been angry at him, but the other still cared. He wasn't heartless. Which meant that something was most definitely wrong. As the dealer stood there, paralyzed on the spot, he found himself muttering in a breathless and devastated voice, "No... kid... please." He knew his words had no chance of reaching Trygve, but he needed to say something. Something to ease the furious and depressed energy that was building in his chest, threatening to shatter his usually well hidden heart. He knew that he needed to do something, even if he really didn't want to.

Thankfully, one thing that was nice about Michael's small size was that he was able to sneak past others fairly easily, since he wasn't very noticeable. At least, not at first glance. So, after taking a steadying breath inwards, the thief darted across the battlefield, keeping his body low to the ground as he grew nearer to the volcano. Once he was close enough that he could practically feel the heat coming off of Ry in waves, he knew what he needed to do. Raising a paw, the dealer's mismatched eyes began to glow faintly, power beginning to thrum steadily throughout his body. He knew it would exhaust him, but he needed to do it. Concentrating as much as he could, Michael rose an entire legion of stones up from the crumbling volcano, the rocks trembling with power as they floated in the air. To his own surprise, the thief felt tears staining his dark fur, his voice shaking as he called into the air, "I... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Trygve... son. This is for your own good." He then clenched his jaw, lashing his paw forward as he moved to try and send the stones wildly in the direction of [member=12555]T. ROUX[/member] , trying to aim them at the most vulnerable parts of Trygve's scale covered body. The rocks were like tiny bullets, lashing forward extremely quickly as a result of Michael's elementals. Of course, in retaliation for using such force, the dealer could already feel blood beginning to dribble from his nose.

DON'T ASK FOR HELP, YOU'RE ALL ALONE
YOU'LL HAVE TO ANSWER TO YOUR OWN PRESSURE!

— Reggan