The only option was to let Rayne go, if he didn't want to be on the receiving end of his anger, his frustration, his confusion. Whatever these feelings in his chest were, whatever Cater was making him feel, they weren't things he should be leaning into. Weren't things that he could safely allow himself to feel, without cutting them off.
His name is heard. Rayne doesn't turn to look at him, doesn't even glance over his shoulder - doesn't stop. It's only when he feels the hand grab his sleeve that he turns, that he reacts.
"Three Percent Partisan." The signature spell is cast. Three large swords are summoned and, with a flick of his wrist, put into action. One moves to Cater, the flat of the blade pushing his arm up to force him to let go of Rayne's sleeve. The other two then slam into the ground, forming a cross in front of Cater, to keep him from going any further. One blade is over his thigh, the other directly behind his knee, trapping his leg in place.
With how violent of a spell, how harsh of a casting, one might expect Cater to have some form of an injury. Not even a single cut would be found on his skin. It wasn't like Rayne actually wanted to hurt him. All he wanted was to scare him, to stop him. Of course, his sleeve on the other hand... those blades were sharp, gentle as he wanted to be. The other teen's sleeve may have been cut, torn, by the quick movements.
The first blade vanishes, having completed the task it was formed to do. Rayne turns back, continuing to walk away. Only when he's out of sight would the blade vanish, leaving Cater with... probably far more questions than answers.
no subject
His name is heard. Rayne doesn't turn to look at him, doesn't even glance over his shoulder - doesn't stop. It's only when he feels the hand grab his sleeve that he turns, that he reacts.
"Three Percent Partisan." The signature spell is cast. Three large swords are summoned and, with a flick of his wrist, put into action. One moves to Cater, the flat of the blade pushing his arm up to force him to let go of Rayne's sleeve. The other two then slam into the ground, forming a cross in front of Cater, to keep him from going any further. One blade is over his thigh, the other directly behind his knee, trapping his leg in place.
With how violent of a spell, how harsh of a casting, one might expect Cater to have some form of an injury. Not even a single cut would be found on his skin. It wasn't like Rayne actually wanted to hurt him. All he wanted was to scare him, to stop him. Of course, his sleeve on the other hand... those blades were sharp, gentle as he wanted to be. The other teen's sleeve may have been cut, torn, by the quick movements.
The first blade vanishes, having completed the task it was formed to do. Rayne turns back, continuing to walk away. Only when he's out of sight would the blade vanish, leaving Cater with... probably far more questions than answers.