[Words are nearly drowned as weapon's ice slips through bone again, but the praising does find him, rising murmur beneath the din, swordman's voice at once familiar and seeping through, quietly. While rushing legs press ahead again; pushing to charge another dead-thing before zombies crowd either first. Half the swordsman hope's drawn him to—his weapon sweeps through old bodies, locking swords with another's as his ice escapes hands instead. His freezing spell's instability. His watching eyes wander everything, adrenaline surging before a corpse-soldier snaps at him. Its teeth catch his sword instead, and Shoto jerks his blade upwards, opened palm to edge of sword seeping out ice and blood both now. Splintering bones and ice shattering; he's echoed Quirks and fractured spells; his flames and golds a bright furnace, feeling this burning's too "similar". Though this power's his too, now.
His bleeding palm's sealing magically.]
Sensei! [Over the crush of things,] Just call if you need a shield next!
[But off he goes again; steps luring more zombies, drawing eyes and threats closer, heat when flames ignite fully and bloom in sharp blues instead. Though something new shifts inside him—his freedom found more in fighting, the sleeping self he's been shaped to be. A mesh of abilities stitched together: a patchwork quilt of those he's cared about. Another's flames; his mother's ice; his sensei's patience his swordplay. When now he cuts at limbs harder. Putting names to things as All Might does. And, the sound of broken glass follows him, mix of ice and flames mingling, his biting colds to superheating blues. The rapid shifts in airs blending.
Violent more and more often; his weapon mimicking Hijikata's, catching his movements, glassing the stronger man's talents. He lifts his palm, shouting.] Hell's Gate! Burning Flashfire Heatwave! [Lacing his spells again: Kasha's flames in fiery circling applied to still-frozen corpses, aiming from one to the next two, searing through limbs in nearly too-quick succession. His switched degrees behind all of it. Swordless hand digging nails in when crowding's too close for him. Sparks and water next rapidly: running current's bolts passing from hands through as livewires. The way his skin lights as always: bursts with flames another time or two. His magic shifts still unstable... And more the boy's leaking frost, slipping himself between opponents, finding his sword against their ribs before he's halving through quietly, spilled remains freezing over again.
Finding his rhythm now.
And still, he slows to watch, always seeking Hijikata when pause comes sporadically, thoroughly fascinated.
He's feeling too far from him... plants his palms against the ground instead, crouched in place with half murmur, sending ice as waves travel, snake the ground to crawl up bones, corpse, whatever "thing" the man targets next, to freeze it still if he's able to. Lesser, Heaven Piercing Ice Wall.
no subject
His bleeding palm's sealing magically.]
Sensei! [Over the crush of things,] Just call if you need a shield next!
[But off he goes again; steps luring more zombies, drawing eyes and threats closer, heat when flames ignite fully and bloom in sharp blues instead. Though something new shifts inside him—his freedom found more in fighting, the sleeping self he's been shaped to be. A mesh of abilities stitched together: a patchwork quilt of those he's cared about. Another's flames; his mother's ice; his sensei's patience his swordplay. When now he cuts at limbs harder. Putting names to things as All Might does. And, the sound of broken glass follows him, mix of ice and flames mingling, his biting colds to superheating blues. The rapid shifts in airs blending.
Violent more and more often; his weapon mimicking Hijikata's, catching his movements, glassing the stronger man's talents. He lifts his palm, shouting.] Hell's Gate! Burning Flashfire Heatwave! [Lacing his spells again: Kasha's flames in fiery circling applied to still-frozen corpses, aiming from one to the next two, searing through limbs in nearly too-quick succession. His switched degrees behind all of it. Swordless hand digging nails in when crowding's too close for him. Sparks and water next rapidly: running current's bolts passing from hands through as livewires. The way his skin lights as always: bursts with flames another time or two. His magic shifts still unstable... And more the boy's leaking frost, slipping himself between opponents, finding his sword against their ribs before he's halving through quietly, spilled remains freezing over again.
Finding his rhythm now.
And still, he slows to watch, always seeking Hijikata when pause comes sporadically, thoroughly fascinated.
He's feeling too far from him... plants his palms against the ground instead, crouched in place with half murmur, sending ice as waves travel, snake the ground to crawl up bones, corpse, whatever "thing" the man targets next, to freeze it still if he's able to. Lesser, Heaven Piercing Ice Wall.
Please, let it work; please let it reach safely.
He wants so much to be useful here.]