PCs with Gerome

[swordhandled]

[ some threads are nsfw ]

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[maskarang]

[ ?! this is immensely concerning, to the point where he almost wants to hesitate and avoid striking a second time. but, no, a levin sword really isn't anything to scoff at. he grits his teeth together and goes for the second strike. he's aiming for the same spot. ] Stay alive!

[swordhandled]

[ the second strike hits true, but gerome's cry is enough to snap owain back into his senses and avoid the worst of the hit. but with how much damage he's taken, owain feels more on edge, feeling the adrenaline pumping through his veins. he hops away and raises his levin sword to the sky. ] As you will!

[ there's one lightning strike coming down at you, gerome. ]

[maskarang]

[ damn, it wasn't enough—even worse, he can't really move away from the lightning strike. when he's hit, he drops the bottom of his lance to the ground and puts his weight on it as he catches his breath.

a bad hit, but with a few more seconds he can at least continue fighting. ]

[swordhandled]

[ unfortunately for gerome, owain is faster. he raises the sword again, shooting off another blast towards him. ]

[maskarang]

[ the second hit is inarguably worse than the first. he was no in way expecting it and once it hits him, he can feel his consciousness starting to fade. the lance drops from his hand and he reaches up to press his hand against his now exposed shoulder.

ridiculous. the magic's made a mess of his armor and clothes. ] ... impressive. [ it's the last thing he says before he falls over ]

[swordhandled]

--Gerome!

[ owain drops his own weapon and quickly makes his way to his side. he's turning him over and assessing his injuries, trying to see how bad it might be.

also ignoring his own ]

[maskarang]

[ owain don't ignore your own injuries???

they're not... the worst? some stray scrapes and cuts that are conveniently only on a few key areas. the worst of the damage is to his armor. who has low res? gerome, that's who.

also, there's no answer beyond a groan. ]

[swordhandled]

[ tis but a flesh wound!

but owain can tell when gerome is out for the count, so he doesn't hesitate to pick him up. he struggles a bit, not only because of his own lacking strength but because of his injuries. soon enough, he gets one of gerome's arms slung over his shoulders, levin sword holstered at his waist and using the brave lance as a walking stick, and he starts the trek indoors.

it's slow, but owain is doing it!! ]

[maskarang]

[ such a trooper, owain. also, he's going to be mad at you later for ignoring your injuries. and mad at himself for passing out.

he, uh, gets dragged. ]

[swordhandled]

[ it's fine. this is fine. it's not that bad. he didn't pass out or anything like a certain someone. but once they get closer to the resort, owain is raising a hand to cover gerome's face

gotta protect that secret ]

[maskarang]

[ look, don't you drag him—

for some reason, the simple movement of owain covering his face is enough to nudge him back into consciousness. there a grunt, a lot of tensing, and general disorientation before he turns his head owains way. ] ... Owain? [ is that his hand on his face? batting it away and helping them move. ]

[swordhandled]

Your mask is broken, do you want people to see your face?

[ owain's voice is a little strained there, but he is moving his hand away from gerome's face. with him being conscious now, he doesn't need to put as much effort into carrying him, so he shifts lightly, trying to block as much as his face as he can. ]

[maskarang]

[ knitting his brows up. to confirm the claim, he reaches up and lightly touches the exposed side of his face. ... ah. ]

... You worry about my comfort even while you're struggling to walk. [ he exhales unsteadily before shifting himself so he has a better grip on owain—and so he can give whatever support he can while being supported in turn. ]

[swordhandled]

You're not exactly light... [ He's trying to say that in a teasing tone, but his breathing shows how much effort he's expending. he pauses as gerome shifts himself and lets out a light breath of relief as gerome's weight shifts. ]

But... I figured you still wouldn't want anybody to see your face without your permission. It's-- [ owain was going to say something else, but catches himself and stops his sentence, instead just leading the way back indoors ]

Your room is closer...?

[maskarang]

Then we head there. [ the comment about being light combined with the way owain's breathing makes him halt his steps soon after he replies. ] Hold a moment.

[ he was just going to deal with it until they got... wherever they were going, but he guesses he can do something about his face now. reaching under his armor to pull out a new mask, which he awkwardly puts on before undoing a couple of straps on his chest piece. it falls into the snow with a thud. his cape and pauldrons go next. ]

[swordhandled]

--You had a spare. [ he says that in a tone that is "i'm surprised and not surprised".

then he just lets out a laugh, shaking his head but then he catches sight of the fallen armor in the snow and the laugh sort of stops. he lets out a cough and shifts his weight a bit more, feeling gerome a bit more now there's no more chest piece. ]

Ready?

[maskarang]

... I always have a spare. [ the laughter he ignores until owain asks him a question. he lightly kicks the broken armor out of their way. ]

I am. Unless you need me to remove more.

[swordhandled]

No, you're fine!

Let's... hurry inside. We need some rest, after our fight.

[maskarang]

[ nodding his head and helping as much as he can with the moving part. owain is probably doing most of the work considering he kind of feels like a dragon hit him but, hey. this is an improvement over before.

let's get to that door ]

[swordhandled]

[ very much an improvement, but owain doesn't mind it either way. he's just gonna lead the way to gerome's door, not saying much.

but once they get to the door, he's just going to wait for gerome to open it ]

[maskarang]

[ which he intends to do. intends to. there's a very noticeable pause as gerome goes for his chest to feel for the keys. he pats it repeatedly in different places before actually trying his pocket

the seconds tick by before gerome lifts a hand and bangs on the door ] Minerva! [ minerva open up ]

[swordhandled]

Do you not have the key...?

[maskarang]

[ f r e e z i n g ]

[swordhandled]

Can... Minerva open doors?

[maskarang]

... I don't know.