"Duh? Course I do? It's the one bit of classified info I can access freely?"
[They take refuge inside a fancy room that Zelos quickly recognizes and decides not to think too hard on. Architect, he hates this place. Suddenly the idea of getting the fuck away from here seems more and more appealing, the chant of freedom mixed with the tick tick tick of his anxieties in his veins intoxicating and perhaps a little dizzying.
Alright, okay, fucking hell, now that they're not on the move he has too much time to think. Zelos needs a distraction. Okay. He lets go of Sheena and huffs loudly, shaking his hands about in the air to his sides, getting ether to coalesce at his fingertips. There's something he wants to try, now that they can actually do it, if he wants to make himself useful at all in this great escape. He keeps his eyes on the ground and focuses, pacing for a few minutes, and then raises his open right hand in front of himself. Waits a few seconds as ether snaps in his hands. Come on, it shouldn't be too hard. It should be fine. Come on, come on, come on--it's not like he doesn't know how to do this, it's ingrained into his brain--
There's a flash of orange at his outstretched hand, ether finally gathering and pooling until it starts to take shape, something sharp and powerful and and ready for use. It falls into Zelos' hand and he immediately takes it, adjusting the weight so he can hold it without problem. It's light. It's familiar. It sets off something in his brain, tactics and ideas and something pre-set in his systems slowly coming back online like revitalized yet atrophied synapses.
It's so overwhelming that Zelos ends up laughing, a little manic, still high off the emotional rush.] "Oh. Good." [Then he grins, dismissing the sword with a sigh.] "Thank the fucking Architect I can still do that."
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[They take refuge inside a fancy room that Zelos quickly recognizes and decides not to think too hard on. Architect, he hates this place. Suddenly the idea of getting the fuck away from here seems more and more appealing, the chant of freedom mixed with the tick tick tick of his anxieties in his veins intoxicating and perhaps a little dizzying.
Alright, okay, fucking hell, now that they're not on the move he has too much time to think. Zelos needs a distraction. Okay. He lets go of Sheena and huffs loudly, shaking his hands about in the air to his sides, getting ether to coalesce at his fingertips. There's something he wants to try, now that they can actually do it, if he wants to make himself useful at all in this great escape. He keeps his eyes on the ground and focuses, pacing for a few minutes, and then raises his open right hand in front of himself. Waits a few seconds as ether snaps in his hands. Come on, it shouldn't be too hard. It should be fine. Come on, come on, come on--it's not like he doesn't know how to do this, it's ingrained into his brain--
There's a flash of orange at his outstretched hand, ether finally gathering and pooling until it starts to take shape, something sharp and powerful and and ready for use. It falls into Zelos' hand and he immediately takes it, adjusting the weight so he can hold it without problem. It's light. It's familiar. It sets off something in his brain, tactics and ideas and something pre-set in his systems slowly coming back online like revitalized yet atrophied synapses.
It's so overwhelming that Zelos ends up laughing, a little manic, still high off the emotional rush.] "Oh. Good." [Then he grins, dismissing the sword with a sigh.] "Thank the fucking Architect I can still do that."