Quoted By:
Your memory’s still a little patchy, but one thing you <span class="mu-i">DO</span> recall is that you’ve never been one to refuse a lady’s request, especially when threatened with bodily harm! Raising your shield and bracing for impact, your panicked mind is visited by yet another memory! A spotty one, to say the least, but you get the gist: one involving an irate girl at a Halloween party sending you over a railing with a well-thrown <span class="mu-r">PROP SHARK!</span>
You can’t recall what movie or book she was emulating when wearing the costume, but the memory alone is enough to make your chest ache and impart a grim reminder about how energy transfers through objects on collision… meaning that whatever this projectile is made of, it’s still gonna <span class="mu-i">STING!</span>
You imagine little workers scampering around your braincase in a desperate attempt to deal with the incoming calamity–their tiny rubber boots and jumpsuits squeaking as they scramble around your ‘command center’! One brave Ensign has an idea, however, and with the guile of a cheetah he leaps across your head and lands face-first on a button that has already saved you several times since you arrived in Zoral:
<span class="mu-s">LIMBO!</span>
White-knuckling your shield, you drop to your knees like a rockstar and bend backwards just as what feels like some kind of <span class="mu-r">ICE JAVELIN</span> scrapes against your shield and soars into the air whistling like a bottle rocket! As you and your opponents vainly attempt to track its trajectory, a familiar Gnok smelling of burnt poultry shambles into the alley!
“<span class="mu-i">Go’a shry ‘arrrer hen HAAAT-</span>”
His threat is cut short by what might be equally-interpreted as an act of mercy or extremely bad luck: in this case being the aforementioned <span class="mu-r">ICE JAVELIN</span> crashing onto him and exploding into a cloud of icy shrapnel!
Feeling something cold, yet fleshy smack against your face like a thawed tuna, you turn your attention back towards your remaining combatants: though The Boss rushes to meet you even after watching her seared subordinate get mulched, her remaining goons are clearly trembling as they fumble over the words of their next spells!
With your shield still radiating a pinch of icy energy, you decide to:
>Spray and pray some FIRE MOTES! Aim for ‘em all!
>Focus your flames on one person! (Boss? Chytree Blue? Chytree Magenta?)
>Send some ICE SPIKES at the galloping gang boss!
>Discharge some ice on the floor and send ‘em slipping!
>Write-In!
