Hitora had tumbled along with him when hit, however the lack of prior concussive blows let him gain a grip quicker, leading to not going down nearly as far. He stood and rubbed his forehead, groaning.
Keya sees this and immediately puts her weapon on her back, rushing down to his body.
Vra’axinni hops through the window when he sees this, running up to and looking through the door, his strange bodily oddities no doubt visible to Ekimu behind him. He then rushes down as well, ready to fight this menace should he get up.
Ekimu lands in a crouch at the top of the stairs, and remains there for a moment. He stands slowly, feeling his muscles ache and stretch. This wasn’t as easy as it used to be. He walks slowly down the stairs, coming to a stop about ten steps above where the Lord of the Storm had come to a stop. The damage to the city is evident as he makes his way down the staircase, and his mind starts parsing through everything that would need to be done to repair the damage. A Mask of Stone, to be sure; I should still have the one I promised Nilkuu upstairs. Earth and Jungle, perhaps; and someone to operate them for me. He turns to regard Blaze, poised at the bottom of the stairs.
I’ll try to be more sparing with these sorts of things in the future I swear.
Hanging at Vra’axinni’s side would be his skeletal arm, looking completely stripped of flesh and muscle and easily mistaken for a heinous injury, especially since he wasn’t using it at the moment.
Strangely, the giant crystalline structure he’d created with his potion seemed to have…dissolved. Odd.
Hitora rubbed the back of his head. “Might have a concussion, but I think I’m the worst of it.” He mutters.
Keya rushed up. “Is he dead?” She asks tactlessly.
Gladius followed Ekimu silently, shooting a glance to everyone present, his eyes eventually settling on Blaze with an unkind look before glaring at the fallen goliath. He’l have to be interrogated later on… See if Ekimu can’t find a use for him, maybe a way to tamper with his power a bit…
“Far from it.” Gladius responded to Keya, dropping to one knee and feeling the thinnest part of the Storm’s neck armour he could identify. A spark jumped from it to his hand, which he immediately retracted. “No, he’ll still have a chance to answer to Ekimu, after all.”
“Does anyone here know why he began ravaging?” He said, standing back up and looking around.
“He was heading for the Forge and I panicked.” Blaze said, readying to take out the mask halves. He wasn’t going to come out of this unscathed, “As for injuries, I can only guess.”
Gladius glared for a second at the mask. He had no immediate knowledge of masks and the odd colouring told him nothing other than Blaze broke something of value. “Have the goodness to sit down,” He told Blaze firmly. “I will speak to you in a moment.”
“Then you’ll wait until he’s available.” Gladius hissed through his teeth, not bothering to fully look at him. “By the stars, Blaze, if this really is your fault I may try to keep Ekimu’s hammer from finding its way to your head, but you can expect the flat of my blade to take its place later on.”
“We just saw him in the street, people running. It seemed he was going to try and escape, and I punched him, and others joined it…” Hitora started. “But it’s a blur after that. A good knock to the skull does that to you.” He then looks up. “And good to see you, it’s been a while. Assuming you remember me better than I do you.” He smirks a bit, still holding his head.
The Storm appeared absolutely insensible. His breathing was incredibly slow, even for his size, and he was probably getting the only sleep he had gotten in the last few years.
Gladius nodded. “I can understand your difficulty in recalling it, and yet if you do happen to remember the specifics, do not hesitate to tell Ekimu. It will help us in determining the fate of our large friend,” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “As well as determining if he’s solely to blame.”
Ekimu relaxes somewhat. “You are correct; you share your name with another that I kne-”
The Mask Maker cuts off abruptly, his hammer swinging in an arc until it stops, Vra’axinni’s sword hooked in corner where the hammer’s handle met its head. He stares Vra’axinni down. “May I have your name, stranger?”