[Hector looks around, straining through the darkness until he gets eyes on Cesar, floating safely nearby. Ok. Time to begin.
He's too hopelessly soaked to create a spark, so he begins the channeling by flicking the water, sending droplets splashing down with a pale blue glow. It's a symbolic gesture, not a hard action and reaction, to bridge the immaterial and the material worlds.
He reaches out and down to the kracken. She's as tired as he is, though she's been wonderfully loyal in spite of the pains.]
Come. It's time to stretch now. [He whispers, too tired to project the thoughts solely with his power.] You've been brilliant. One last task, then down to the cool, dark depths to rest and feed yourself on little glowing fish.
[It makes it easier for both master and creation if their goals align. She wants to retreat, and knowing that he wants that too, she doesn't fight his suggestion.
She untangles her tentacles from around the ship and slips her body beneath it. She sucks in water and sends it jetting out, propelling her forward. Hector does not direct, other than reminding her of the goal; the water is her domain, and she knows her strengths better than he. She pushes, and the ship rises, then begins to sink, and she pushes again. It's a slow, draining process.
Finally, the water bubbles and churns, and the ship begins to emerge from the waves. Hector thinks to the ship is rocking strangely, until he realizes that no, his vision has gone fuzzy. Water streams out of the holes Alucard punched into the sides. Hector's last exhausted thought is, 'the crew better damned well be ready', and then he slumps against the barrel.]
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He's too hopelessly soaked to create a spark, so he begins the channeling by flicking the water, sending droplets splashing down with a pale blue glow. It's a symbolic gesture, not a hard action and reaction, to bridge the immaterial and the material worlds.
He reaches out and down to the kracken. She's as tired as he is, though she's been wonderfully loyal in spite of the pains.]
Come. It's time to stretch now. [He whispers, too tired to project the thoughts solely with his power.] You've been brilliant. One last task, then down to the cool, dark depths to rest and feed yourself on little glowing fish.
[It makes it easier for both master and creation if their goals align. She wants to retreat, and knowing that he wants that too, she doesn't fight his suggestion.
She untangles her tentacles from around the ship and slips her body beneath it. She sucks in water and sends it jetting out, propelling her forward. Hector does not direct, other than reminding her of the goal; the water is her domain, and she knows her strengths better than he. She pushes, and the ship rises, then begins to sink, and she pushes again. It's a slow, draining process.
Finally, the water bubbles and churns, and the ship begins to emerge from the waves. Hector thinks to the ship is rocking strangely, until he realizes that no, his vision has gone fuzzy. Water streams out of the holes Alucard punched into the sides. Hector's last exhausted thought is, 'the crew better damned well be ready', and then he slumps against the barrel.]