[ he can't fall any lower than he already is; the psychic quake has his posture faltering instead, arms lifting in front of himself protectively as if that might somehow shield him. It doesn't. His mind is punctured with little bits of debris cast at him from the beast, flashes of things he doesn't understand: his throat constricting, the all-too-familiar numbness of nothing spreading from his legs to the rest of him, the brief vision of a mask. He gasps for breath, strangled by memories that aren't his own. When the pressure relieves, it's in the wake of Voryn's spell, not that he understands what it is. Tusk feels livelier, and perhaps it's the Stand's invigoration that pushes him back to his senses.
Why are they so obsessed with the Tree? He doesn't get it, but it doesn't matter. While he was caught in the throes of - whatever that was (he can't think about that now, either), Voryn did something to it, and the creature is equine enough that Johnny immediately understands what Voryn's calling on him to do: hit a weak part. ]
-- Didn't he just say to aim for the skull?! Fuck!
[ he snaps out a frustrated comment, gritting his teeth together, but there's no time to do anything other than complain; his angle's not right to hit the head, anyway. Another nail fires off, spinning in a greater, faster arc than Johnny's seen before - there's something going on - and his aim, as ever, is true. The brief window afforded by the Aeternae rearing up closes just before his "bullet" reaches, but it doesn't seem to matter. The projectile blasts a hole straight through muscle, travelling towards the beast's heart - or where its heart should be, anyway. The creature releases a guttural bellow, crumpling down onto its front legs. Johnny catches his breath.
A normal animal would be dead from that, but he doubts it's over yet. Eight nails left. ]
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Why are they so obsessed with the Tree? He doesn't get it, but it doesn't matter. While he was caught in the throes of - whatever that was (he can't think about that now, either), Voryn did something to it, and the creature is equine enough that Johnny immediately understands what Voryn's calling on him to do: hit a weak part. ]
-- Didn't he just say to aim for the skull?! Fuck!
[ he snaps out a frustrated comment, gritting his teeth together, but there's no time to do anything other than complain; his angle's not right to hit the head, anyway. Another nail fires off, spinning in a greater, faster arc than Johnny's seen before - there's something going on - and his aim, as ever, is true. The brief window afforded by the Aeternae rearing up closes just before his "bullet" reaches, but it doesn't seem to matter. The projectile blasts a hole straight through muscle, travelling towards the beast's heart - or where its heart should be, anyway. The creature releases a guttural bellow, crumpling down onto its front legs. Johnny catches his breath.
A normal animal would be dead from that, but he doubts it's over yet. Eight nails left. ]