[They're both fortunate that Huaisang doesn't knock himself unconscious when his head connects with the corner of the stairs. His golden core can mend the injury and remove any traces of a scar, with time, but if he'd lost consciousness, Jin Guangyao would now be in a desperate race against physics to reach Huaisang's plummeting body before it reached whatever might be at the bottom of the void. If there is a bottom to the void.
Instead, Jin Guangyao only ("only") has to create something from nothing in the few seconds that remain before what little something remaining beneath them, already riddled with chips and cracks, collapses into nothingness.]
I've got you! I have you, A-Sang, hold onto me--
[And he does. Jin Guangyao channels a bolt of his limited spiritual power into his qinggong and drops into a one-legged crouch on the remaining step, his other leg held out parallel to the 'ground.' He seizes hold of Huaisang's arm and shoulders with one hand, grip iron-clad--he's always been stronger than he looks, and he would rather leave bruises that will heal than handle Huaisang with kid gloves and have him slip from his fingers--because he will need his other hand free to pull off this particular hat trick. From his belt, Hensheng leaps into his free hand, the narrow blade no longer flexible but straight and unyielding as a single piece of tempered steel.
The stair under the ball of his other foot gives a low, ominous groan, and begins to crumble away, they are out of time--]
Hold onto me--
[He plants his foot, still extended beside him, onto the flat of Hensheng's blade, tightens his hold on Huaisang's shoulder, and with another burst of power from his core, springs them both off of the step and onto his sword, not even a full second before the last stair dissolves like the last sand disappearing through an hour glass.]
Stand up--put your foot on the blade, Huaisang!
[That will only help with his balance, but anything is better than nothing, because Jin Guangyao is immediately overburdened by the drag and draw on his weak core from his spiritual weapon as Hensheng struggles to sustain their flight. Ahead of them, the mirror at the top of the staircase rises up like a mountain summit, and even without an additional passenger, this ascent would be a test to Jin Guangyao's abilities. With the added weight of another cultivator beside him, his core feels like someone is trying to work a meat hook through it through his abdomen.
His face has grown pale. There's a bit of blood leaking from his nose. Jin Guangyao narrows his focus through the pain and sends them both soaring upwards towards the top of the stairs.]
no subject
Instead, Jin Guangyao only ("only") has to create something from nothing in the few seconds that remain before what little something remaining beneath them, already riddled with chips and cracks, collapses into nothingness.]
I've got you! I have you, A-Sang, hold onto me--
[And he does. Jin Guangyao channels a bolt of his limited spiritual power into his qinggong and drops into a one-legged crouch on the remaining step, his other leg held out parallel to the 'ground.' He seizes hold of Huaisang's arm and shoulders with one hand, grip iron-clad--he's always been stronger than he looks, and he would rather leave bruises that will heal than handle Huaisang with kid gloves and have him slip from his fingers--because he will need his other hand free to pull off this particular hat trick. From his belt, Hensheng leaps into his free hand, the narrow blade no longer flexible but straight and unyielding as a single piece of tempered steel.
The stair under the ball of his other foot gives a low, ominous groan, and begins to crumble away, they are out of time--]
Hold onto me--
[He plants his foot, still extended beside him, onto the flat of Hensheng's blade, tightens his hold on Huaisang's shoulder, and with another burst of power from his core, springs them both off of the step and onto his sword, not even a full second before the last stair dissolves like the last sand disappearing through an hour glass.]
Stand up--put your foot on the blade, Huaisang!
[That will only help with his balance, but anything is better than nothing, because Jin Guangyao is immediately overburdened by the drag and draw on his weak core from his spiritual weapon as Hensheng struggles to sustain their flight. Ahead of them, the mirror at the top of the staircase rises up like a mountain summit, and even without an additional passenger, this ascent would be a test to Jin Guangyao's abilities. With the added weight of another cultivator beside him, his core feels like someone is trying to work a meat hook through it through his abdomen.
His face has grown pale. There's a bit of blood leaking from his nose. Jin Guangyao narrows his focus through the pain and sends them both soaring upwards towards the top of the stairs.]