And you're sure that this isn't someone trying to move the castle?
[ In truth, it's not even the trembling of the castle that's concerning him. It's the manic energy in the air, so thick that he can taste it. Every instinct he has, Belmont and Fae alike, is screaming at him that there is something massive, something terrible, that there is some great monster than simply cannot be fought.
Which is true, in a sense. It's like- it's familiar in a lot of ways, though none of the parts of it that seem familiar are related to weather. It feels more distant than shelling, at least from the relative safety of the castle. Less immediately bloody and terrible than machine gun fire. But all without the sole comfort that there's a human being behind it, one that might at any time see sense and stop.
He's tracking kinetic energy, right now, which is usually a useless thing to track (everything moves, all the time. it's potentially useful in rural areas but in a city full of people it's just a mess of sand following roads.) but that right now makes a good gauge for the force of the storm. The sand swirls about restlessly where there is flooding, and darts across the map for wind, turning and travelling around the edges to return to its starting point to move again like the water of a fountain. But his hand is on the charcoal again, and he stares at an empty section of the stone floor that could hold another anchoring glyph, just in case this is an attempt to steal the castle. ]
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[ In truth, it's not even the trembling of the castle that's concerning him. It's the manic energy in the air, so thick that he can taste it. Every instinct he has, Belmont and Fae alike, is screaming at him that there is something massive, something terrible, that there is some great monster than simply cannot be fought.
Which is true, in a sense. It's like- it's familiar in a lot of ways, though none of the parts of it that seem familiar are related to weather. It feels more distant than shelling, at least from the relative safety of the castle. Less immediately bloody and terrible than machine gun fire. But all without the sole comfort that there's a human being behind it, one that might at any time see sense and stop.
He's tracking kinetic energy, right now, which is usually a useless thing to track (everything moves, all the time. it's potentially useful in rural areas but in a city full of people it's just a mess of sand following roads.) but that right now makes a good gauge for the force of the storm. The sand swirls about restlessly where there is flooding, and darts across the map for wind, turning and travelling around the edges to return to its starting point to move again like the water of a fountain. But his hand is on the charcoal again, and he stares at an empty section of the stone floor that could hold another anchoring glyph, just in case this is an attempt to steal the castle. ]