[Strange how a slither of metal, an unidentifiable piece of scrap that could have so easily been smelted or lost through the years, holds such power- but in those moments the world tilts on its axis. Perhaps it's Ryoko's innate talent for magecraft, perhaps it's her desperation, but either way the lines her shaking hands scrape into the concrete flare to life with her words. And that scavenged nothing she's protected so diligently? It carves through the lines of history as cleanly as it would have done a throat when it was whole.
Summonings are always described with such reverence in texts but the air is suffocating, thick with the tang of ozone and gunpowder as the Throne answers Ryoko's call.
Would the result have been different with Izuminokami in its whole? Or with its tsuba or scabbard? Who can say. But there's little than Ryoko can do about it now. The wall cracks around the magic circle as the pressure of something otherworldly forces its way through in less of an arrival than an assault. Liquid light pours out, blinding in its brilliance as it swirls and takes on a familiar form.
- and then it's gone, leaving something- someone standing in its place.
A man. The rain is now coming down so heavily that it seems to create an aura around him where it bounces off of his overcoat and, as he steps forward, his shadow swallows Ryoko's form whole. Dark eyes flash as he looks her up and down, nakedly critical even with the rest of his face too shadowed to give any other expression away.]
Are you my Master?
[He doesn't need to raise his voice. So commanding is his presence that it feels like the rain itself quietens in his wake.]
no subject
Summonings are always described with such reverence in texts but the air is suffocating, thick with the tang of ozone and gunpowder as the Throne answers Ryoko's call.
Would the result have been different with Izuminokami in its whole? Or with its tsuba or scabbard? Who can say. But there's little than Ryoko can do about it now. The wall cracks around the magic circle as the pressure of something otherworldly forces its way through in less of an arrival than an assault. Liquid light pours out, blinding in its brilliance as it swirls and takes on a familiar form.
- and then it's gone, leaving something- someone standing in its place.
A man. The rain is now coming down so heavily that it seems to create an aura around him where it bounces off of his overcoat and, as he steps forward, his shadow swallows Ryoko's form whole. Dark eyes flash as he looks her up and down, nakedly critical even with the rest of his face too shadowed to give any other expression away.]
Are you my Master?
[He doesn't need to raise his voice. So commanding is his presence that it feels like the rain itself quietens in his wake.]