In which the entire tower collectively goes OH SHIT

[tempustemporum]

Characters: The entire tower. PARTY POST.
Setting: Take a wild guess.
Format: Either or.
Summary: The tower has been reduced to one room, and it's chock full of monsters. Who you gonna call?
Warnings: Lots, the least of which being language...


[Well, ladies and gentlemen, shit dun hit the fan.]

[The tower has been condensed to one room with pretty much nothing in it. This post? Do whatever in it. General reactions. Go. ...As for Ienzo, he's just kind of sitting in the corner, head in his hands.]

Comments

[keepscalm]

[England quickly lowers himself to prepare to lunge at the creature when it goes for the young woman, but then -- seemingly with no effort at all -- she ignites her attacker, and his eyes widen a little. He can feel the spark of magic behind it.

He doesn't have too much time to be in awe, as something approaching from his rear provokes him to lift his leg so he can throw it back in a crescent kick, knocking the monster to the side so that he can ream it with his knife.]

I think that would be far too convenient. [Oh that British sarcasm. Is there ever a wrong time for it?]

[guiltapalooza]

[In her opinion, no. Are they exchanging witty quips while exterminating demons now? That's practically her natural habitat.]

You seem to be doing okay with the... kicking. Me, not so good with kicking. [Even as she speaks she's backing up hurriedly, rushing not to get too close to the monsters and have her powers disable. Willow likes to think of herself as pretty been there, done that at this point in her life, but nothing got under her skin faster than the idea that she'd be without her magic.

She makes a quick whirling motion with her hand, and her formerly dropped chair leg lifts up off the ground telekinetically and skewers right through another monster. Of course, this is rather a gory process aside from being a magically strenuous one, and her nose wrinkles.] Oh, Goddess, this is gross.

[keepscalm]

[England hasn't even tried to use his own magic -- that's not where his offensive forte lies, and it would take too much time. However, watching the woman perform hers has him reaching for it, just a little, and-- suddenly he can't reach it. He can't even feel it.

Suddenly it makes a little more sense why she's so desperately backpedaling. Alright, he thinks he's got an idea for an arrangement.]

Military training. [...sort of. The spray of whatever disgusting stuff fills the monster doesn't seem to faze him much; then again, with how much action his knife has seen, his arms are practically drenched by this point with all sorts of lovely mystery fluids. He likes this shirt, too.]

If I keep them away, can you continue using your magic? [He's got no problem being a tank if it'll make the exterminating more efficient.]

[guiltapalooza]

[Whatever training it is, she's grateful for it. Willow doesn't have a problem with gore in front of her-- just with causing it. It brings up bad memories and self-doubt and, generally, further badness.

But she doesn't really have a choice here, and she adjusts fast.] Not a problem, [she declares, resolve firming. She glances over to meet his eyes for a brief moment.] If I could focus for a second, this would go a lot faster.

[It would take some serious teamwork for her to trust that he wouldn't let her get mauled from behind while she was concentrating, but Willow trusted people on the fly regularly. It rarely ever served her wrong; she didn't hesitate here.]

[keepscalm]

[England makes sure to position himself between the redhead and most of the monsters once she agreed.]

Focus away, my dear. [He withdraws his gun to shoot at a few creatures that looked like they were going to approach her from the rear, and then whirls rapidly to elbow the closest beast to his side. Gosh, it's almost like elbowing France. That's sort of nice. Until he catches a claw across the arm and suddenly his blood -- or, more of his blood, his hands aren't exactly in good shape -- is mixing with the oozy cocktail saturating his shirt.

He grits his teeth and bears it, though. He's suffered much worse than a scratch. After a quick check to make sure the woman wasn't about to be ambushed, he rushed another of the writhing adversaries.]

[guiltapalooza]

[Oh, she's being called dear. That's kind of cute. Wait, focusing now, especially since he's getting hurt for her sake.] Okay, [she says to herself under her breath,] time to show you why you shouldn't tangle with a witch.

[Willow needs something that will affect a lot of enemies at once, but will leave her allies-- even if she doesn't know them personally-- unharmed. It'd been impossible to do something that delicate when she'd been constantly getting attacked, but now that she has a moment to herself, she considers the problem.

Maybe simple would be best. It takes her some time and a lot of concentration, and a couple mental false starts, but within a few minutes she thinks she's got it. She lifts her arms into the air and intones,] Sleep, [in an oddly reverberating voice.

Every hostile within twenty feet of her stops in place, dazedly, and sways on their feet as if incredibly groggy. Several of them slowly crumple to the ground.

Willow sighs in aggravation.] Well, that's something.

[keepscalm]

[England keeps the woman in his peripheral to the best of his abillity so that he can rush to her defense if anything attacks her, but the way stays fairly clear while she casts her spell.

He watches in fascination as suddenly their adversaries stop dead and begin to wobble, and the Englishman straightens, tossing her an impressed look over his shoulder.]

That was brilliant.

[Compliment said, he quickly moves to take advantage of the spell, easily taking quite a few point-blank headshots at the immobile aggressors and casually kicking their corpses over after he's shot them. He's very composed with each approach, albeit a bit harried to ensure that he attacks before the drowsiness wears off.]

[guiltapalooza]

[He thought that was brilliant? Willow had thought it was an embarrassing half-failure, but as he takes the opportunity to take out a whole slew of attackers, she can see how it didn't turn out too badly.

She's unphased, even relieved, to see them so summarily dispatched. There's been enough violence in her life by now that although she isn't great at perpetrating it herself, she hardly ever balks at it anymore. Once he's done, they're left with a clear space around them, a temporary calm in the storm.

Willow shoots him a grateful look.] Couldn't have done it without you. It's challenging trying to make sure I make the right things fall asleep and not the good guys.

[keepscalm]

[He's drawing in heavy breaths by the time the immediate area around them is clear, and takes a moment to rest one hand on his knee and the other against his diaphragm, slumping a little to regain all the wind he hadn't had time for while fighting. God, he's tired. He needs to start working out regularly again.

After a few moments catching his breath, he straightens again, and does the very gentlemanly thing of cleaning his knife before speaking. Which he actually does on his trousers, so that probably negates anything "gentlemanly" about it. Oh well. He looks to Willow as he starts to speak.]

I'm certainly glad you hit your mark, then. I don't think I'd last long if I were to fall asleep.

[Oh, wait, now that he has time for it.] Arthur Kirkland. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. [He'd shake her hand, but...well. He has blood and however other many weird fluids all over his. Hopefully she can forgive him.]

[guiltapalooza]

[She's helped Buffy clean up so much various demon gunk in her time that she barely even notices it, to be honest. She's just looking at him a little worriedly. Now that they've passed the immediate crisis part, at least for the time being, she moves onto her normal social interactions: i.e., open concern.]

Willow Rosenberg. I'll try to keep being, um, on the mark. Do you want to take a breather, and I'll keep an eye out? That was a lot of freaky deformed bad guys to take out all in one go.

[She does seem alert and like she's gotten her second wind, herself. Willow isn't exactly used to long, protracted battles like this, but she is used to battles, period, particularly in taking the support role.]

[keepscalm]

[Oh wait she's worried, he didn't mean to worry her. He stretches a little, trying to relieve some of the tension built up in his overused muscles, and then gives her a weary (but cordial nonetheless) smile.]

It would be wonderful if you could do that, but you needn't trouble yourself on my behalf.

[Even if he was sort of achey all over ow. He found himself missing the days when melee combat was normal in warfare, if only because he'd have been much better prepared for this if he'd come fresh out of that time period.]

[guiltapalooza]

[She returns his smile readily, and with some visible gratitude. Befriending people by fending off demons alongside them is something Willow is very used to.]

No, I got it, [she assures him.] You rest. I can at least handle a simple notice-me-not for a few minutes.

[That reference to Harry Potter magic, by the way, was completely intentional. True to her words, Willow slowly brings up a hand again, palm flat and facing outwards. There's a faint sensation of water sprinkling over them, as if on a breeze, and the feeling persists even after she lowers her hand.] We aren't actually invisible, so we can't do anything too attention-grabby, but just standing here should be no problem.