[Magnus's typist would like to warn for light description of injuries including blood + loss of teeth in this tag]
Magnus watches Galahad as he approaches, trying to get a sense of how Galahad is so unfathomably good at this. Magnus isn't a genius at the sword, but he's also no slouch, at this point. He can modestly hold his own in most situations even without letting Jack take on most of the burden of the fight.
He can feel his training sword start to wrest itself from his grip. He has a fleeting thought: Aw, my new super cool friend is going to think I'm totally lame.
This time, when he summons the Peace of Frey, his cool alf seidr move that flings all weapons within a thirty foot radius outside of that zone, he doesn't mean to do it. He feels a burning need to do something to keep from losing immediately, and then the burning feeling is rushing outside of his body, enveloping him in heat and flowing outward. Twice in one day is a lot on a guy. His nose starts bleeding again, much more obviously than it did when he showed this neat trick off for Lan Wangji. One of his molars falls out, and his eardrum pops with the pressure coursing through him.
He spits his tooth onto the ground and wipes his nosebleed away again. Already he can feel his body sluggishly healing from the shockwave he just emitted: he'll have a new tooth by the morning, and his nose is recalibrating quickly. The scratch on the palm of his hand from the force with which his training sword jerked out of his own hand, too, is raw, new skin quickly.
"Shit, dude, I'm so sorry," Magnus says, once his ability to words returns to him. He glances around. His training sword seems to have glanced against one of the decorative rocks outside so hard that something got chipped. "I did not mean to pull that on you without warning."
no subject
Magnus watches Galahad as he approaches, trying to get a sense of how Galahad is so unfathomably good at this. Magnus isn't a genius at the sword, but he's also no slouch, at this point. He can modestly hold his own in most situations even without letting Jack take on most of the burden of the fight.
He can feel his training sword start to wrest itself from his grip. He has a fleeting thought: Aw, my new super cool friend is going to think I'm totally lame.
This time, when he summons the Peace of Frey, his cool alf seidr move that flings all weapons within a thirty foot radius outside of that zone, he doesn't mean to do it. He feels a burning need to do something to keep from losing immediately, and then the burning feeling is rushing outside of his body, enveloping him in heat and flowing outward. Twice in one day is a lot on a guy. His nose starts bleeding again, much more obviously than it did when he showed this neat trick off for Lan Wangji. One of his molars falls out, and his eardrum pops with the pressure coursing through him.
He spits his tooth onto the ground and wipes his nosebleed away again. Already he can feel his body sluggishly healing from the shockwave he just emitted: he'll have a new tooth by the morning, and his nose is recalibrating quickly. The scratch on the palm of his hand from the force with which his training sword jerked out of his own hand, too, is raw, new skin quickly.
"Shit, dude, I'm so sorry," Magnus says, once his ability to words returns to him. He glances around. His training sword seems to have glanced against one of the decorative rocks outside so hard that something got chipped. "I did not mean to pull that on you without warning."