Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-24296957-20140301210623/@comment-24296957-20140705013804

Raising his hand directly above him, Amet crouched, using the gravity dust inside to keep him slightly stable on top of the thrashing bird. For some, they would be off their rocker in his position. But the boy was uncannily calm. So was the way he fought and the Kindoturi he practiced.

As the Grimm continued to thrash about wildly, Amet ran through his knowledge once more.

''Nevermore, Bird Grimm. Class type, R1. Patterns: High-soars, divebombs, razor feathers, ranged combat. With enough force, it can be brought down easily. Decapatation is best for incapacitation. Fighting alone is not recommended.''

''So. With it able to molt at any time, I cannot grab it's feathers. I have to keep my center of gravity going, and when it tires out of pattern, rush forward. Rinse and repeat.''

What felt like hours to him was actual mere moments. The bird plateaued, and Amet ran forward, his Aura fully flared. Gripping his sword, the boy ran his Aura through it, dragging it behind him, leaving a deep gash in the Nevermore's back. When the Grimm pulled back up, Amet dug his sword into it's back again. Emitting an ear-splitting screech, Amet grimaced.

As it followed the pattern once more - Soar, divebomb, shake - the boy noticed something out of the ordinary. While it did follow the pattern, the Grimm had another thing in mind.

Coming out of the divebomb, it extended out its wings, coming to an abrupt halt - nearly throwing Amet.

''Don't do it. Don't do it.''

The Nevermore sent Hell raining down on his team members.