Lloyd staggers, almost tripping over himself to make sure Sheena is alright, just as Mithos' own fear slams into him, leaving him heaving a breath and struggling to keep steady. The Aegises. Something is happening to them, and he can't see them, can't know what, but it's not just one of them. Its both of them.
He feels lightheaded, almost, with the way the emotional bleed screams a song of terror, but nows no time to freak out. Lloyd considers shutting off his emotions, using that space instead for rational thinking, but thinks against it at the last minute - the emotional bleed is a good way for Mithos to be able to tell that he's still being driven by Lloyd, and whether or not he particularly cares for Lloyd doesn't matter as long as he realizes that for all intents and purposes, he's still free. Sylvarant hasn't taken his driver, so there's still hope. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Lloyd tries his best to send off what he hopes is reassurance, something like a "it's not over yet, we'll save you," and then returns himself to the current scene.
Anna and Malos both look at him, asking for some sort of answer, and, well, he doesn't have any that he can think of. The door keeping them in is less a door and more of an automatic wall, with no proper locking mechanism or anything to use on their side of things - just layers of smooth concrete, lined with a thick coating of poly-carbonate, if Lloyd had to guess. They can't risk being caught in here with a bunch of guards, Lloyd rationalizes, glancing at the half-aware forms of more than half the party, and he supposes he might be able to slam into it like he did the cell doors, but at the rate that he'd be able to break through...
Biting his lip, setting his shoulders, and continuing to send more hope through the emotional bleed, Lloyd approaches the trap door. It came down from above, right? So there has to be a sliding mechanism in place within the ceiling, something Sylvarant assumed can't be tampered with through the sheer weight of the door.
But then, this Sylvarant has never dealt with super-powered angels before, have they?
Lloyd drops into a kneel in front of the door, sliding his fingers as close to the edge of the door as he can, and as soon as he's able to find a grip, he begins lifting it up. It's heavy - heavier than anything he's tried to lift before, probably well over three hundred pounds, and even with the enhanced angel strength, he finds himself straining, with a grunt, to keep it up. But eventually, he's able to raise himself up with the weight and hold it up, creating enough space for everyone to at least bend and walk through.
"C'mon," he croaks out a little, focused as he is on holding the door up, on keeping his trembling arms from giving. Gods, this is so heavy. "Lets go, I don't know how long I can hold this for."
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He feels lightheaded, almost, with the way the emotional bleed screams a song of terror, but nows no time to freak out. Lloyd considers shutting off his emotions, using that space instead for rational thinking, but thinks against it at the last minute - the emotional bleed is a good way for Mithos to be able to tell that he's still being driven by Lloyd, and whether or not he particularly cares for Lloyd doesn't matter as long as he realizes that for all intents and purposes, he's still free. Sylvarant hasn't taken his driver, so there's still hope. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Lloyd tries his best to send off what he hopes is reassurance, something like a "it's not over yet, we'll save you," and then returns himself to the current scene.
Anna and Malos both look at him, asking for some sort of answer, and, well, he doesn't have any that he can think of. The door keeping them in is less a door and more of an automatic wall, with no proper locking mechanism or anything to use on their side of things - just layers of smooth concrete, lined with a thick coating of poly-carbonate, if Lloyd had to guess. They can't risk being caught in here with a bunch of guards, Lloyd rationalizes, glancing at the half-aware forms of more than half the party, and he supposes he might be able to slam into it like he did the cell doors, but at the rate that he'd be able to break through...
Biting his lip, setting his shoulders, and continuing to send more hope through the emotional bleed, Lloyd approaches the trap door. It came down from above, right? So there has to be a sliding mechanism in place within the ceiling, something Sylvarant assumed can't be tampered with through the sheer weight of the door.
But then, this Sylvarant has never dealt with super-powered angels before, have they?
Lloyd drops into a kneel in front of the door, sliding his fingers as close to the edge of the door as he can, and as soon as he's able to find a grip, he begins lifting it up. It's heavy - heavier than anything he's tried to lift before, probably well over three hundred pounds, and even with the enhanced angel strength, he finds himself straining, with a grunt, to keep it up. But eventually, he's able to raise himself up with the weight and hold it up, creating enough space for everyone to at least bend and walk through.
"C'mon," he croaks out a little, focused as he is on holding the door up, on keeping his trembling arms from giving. Gods, this is so heavy. "Lets go, I don't know how long I can hold this for."