Imagine Drakons

Ade watched as Amadeus barricaded the door with a crate, temporarily concealing the two for the time being. A small window was fastened on the doorway, the outside world obscured by the displeasing head of a newfound Drakon. It only added to their obsessive scratching.

"Uh. Here."

She snapped back to Amadeus, a thin layer of red poisoning her cheeks.
Oh. He just wanted to give her a thing.

She countered her blush with a smirk, taking the bandage. She wasn't entirely sure what to do with it; she knew of its uses, although she never attempted to challenge her minimal first aid skills.
Oh well, there's a first time for everything.

She tentatively held the bandage toward her body, hovering above any minor areas of pain she could find. She decided that her shoulder hurt the worst, and concluded that it would do well if it were covered. She awkwardly draped the cloth over her shoulder after lifting her hoodie. She half expected it to coil around her arm as instructed, and was slightly disappointed when it continued to dangle amidst the darkness.

At least Amadeus was preoccupied. She had subconsciously made this into a personal challenge.

It took perhaps five minutes of wrapping and unwrapping for her to layer the wound in a comfortable, stable manner.

"If we weren't in the middle of a battle, this would look suspiciously illegal."

Satisfied with herself, she returned her sweatshirt to its original stance and swung her head over her shoulder. Sure enough, he had found something to work with. Why was he embarrassed by that?

She moved towards the counter and observed the bottles, some of the beverage still lounging within the glass container.
She might have suggested consumption at any other time, but she (through much difficulty) held herself back.

No. They were making cocktails.

The molotov-y kind.

She wasn't especially familiar with the dynamics of explosives, although she was aware of the single necessity that caused them to function. Many of the students in the academy would experiment with such things, particularly during holidays. Nobody cared that it was "highly frowned upon".

Yeah. They needed fire.

She sprung from her position, shuffling through the multitude of supplies. They were definitely over here. She remembered seeing them as she endured the tedious process of bandaging, not making much of it at the time.
"A-ha!" She called, the scratching on the door increasing at the sudden burst of life. She returned to the counter, placing a package of mysteriously damp matches beside the bottles.

Tags:
Inspiration:
Notes:
Table by Kyvestra.

Ade pondered at the thought for a moment, although it had no fundamental meaning. She couldn't differentiate any of the chemicals that likely hid amongst the shelves, unless they had a few hours to spare. The fervent scratching behind the door suggested otherwise.

She was, however, confident that she could find a rag. How difficult could it be? It was just a square thing. A square thing alongside the other similarly colored auras of varying shapes and sizes.
At moments like these, she wished inanimate objects made more of an effort at having emotions.

Her face lit up at the sight if a previously mentioned square thing, grasping it with one hand as she held it at eye level.
Her heart descended a bit at the revelation of the now obvious rectangle of wood. Honestly, what could this possibly be used for? It had to be the most pointless object in here. She casted it aside with furrowed brows.

"No," She responded curtly.

"We'll need to dip some rags in something flammable, and empty out some of this wine. The bottles break best at about a third filled, but I think half will be a good balance. Then we'll see if we can't make some pyrotechnics and demonstrate some disapproval."


Her facial muscles unwounded as a grin quirked.

His embarrassment resurfaced as a thought invaded his mind. Her grin never faltered, taking a second glance at his aura.
What started out as affection quickly shifted to his typical nervo-wait what.
Affection.
She should be accustomed to the sight by now. She usually took joy when causing such a change of emotion to take place, but this time she didn't retain her typical satisfaction. She only felt curious, and was overwhelmed with doubt.
She read it wrong. Stop dwelling on it.

Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. She couldn't muster any words to say.

And then it happened. As if it had fell from the sky, landing softly in the comforting hands of fate. The hallelujah chorus vibrated throughout the room.

"SQUARE THING!" She shouted abruptly, splitting through the silence as she lunged towards the rag.

Tags:
Inspiration:
Notes:
Table by Kyvestra.

Ade found herself grinning as the tension diffused, quite content with the sudden change of subject.
Actually, the subject had never changed.

She watched as Amadeus crafted the destructive brew, the two substances morphing into one as the alchemist rattled the bottles.

"Ah, could you cut up that rag into strips? We'll need to soak it in gasoline, too."

She offered him a nod, her fingers brushing the matted material before clothing the counter with it. She considered tearing the rag apart with her teeth for a mere moment, but whisked the thought away. That would be pointless. She had weapons.

Her axes rested in her grip. They lingered quietly above the rag, ready to strike at her command.

The axe fell with a whack, splitting the fiber with ease and indenting the wood beneath it. She couldn't care less about the well being of the furnishing ; her axe continued to sing.

She separated the rag into relatively geometric shapes, severing any clinging threads as she sawed at the fraying edges. "The chef is in the fuckin' house," She said at the repetitive droning of her axe.
She should cook things for a living. Screw killing things, this was obviously her axes' calling in life.

"Bon Appetit!" She announced, revealing two handfuls of scraps.

A shatter rung from behind her, the window ruptured by a snarling Drakon.

"Uh... Yeah. Let's give 'em show."

Tags:
Inspiration:
Notes:
Table by Kyvestra.

Amadeus was, quite obviously, struggling with something. He was having a conflict within the walls of his own head. Honestly, had the situation not been so grave, it would have been borderline adorable. Er... Amusing.

He composed himself shortly after, handing her one of the freshly assembled Molotov cocktails. She took it eagerly, teasing the wick with the small spark that danced atop the match.
You know, fire's great. It's so vibrant and dangerous, yet can be tamed if you play your cards right.
They had a pretty good hand to begin with.

Her fingers tightened around the glass, the flame desperately reaching for the rag. She had one shot.
Well, okay. Maybe that was exaggerated. They had more than one bottle, but it would be rather unfortunate if she accidentally set their depot on fire.

So... Yes. In essence, she had one shot. Why was she getting a sudden spurt of nervousness? She had chucked axes countless times—a simple wine bottle should hardly be of any concern. Amadeus seemed anxious as well, teetering on the edge of his seat as the anticipation slayed them both.

Screw it.

Ade brought the match towards the bottle, igniting the makeshift wick and hurling the cocktail towards the window without anyone's consent.

It scraped the frame of the window, the glass miraculously remaining intact as it slid out the opening. A long-awaited clank was heard, the fire arousing in a massive uproar of flames. It enveloped multiple Drakon, their pitiful wails bringing a smirk to her face.

"I don't think they liked our meal. How rude!"

Tags: Amadeus Wren
Inspiration:
Notes: Why haven't I been using these I'm dumb
Table by Kyvestra.