Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20170217234150/@comment-28358106-20170224200113

Thomas shields himself from the rain of rocks as they shower aroumd him, throwing up a shield as deadly chunks blast out like shrapnel. A hemisphere of shimmering energy forms around him, the pieces slowing to a crawl as they pass its surface. He looks over to Armata, his hands extended to keep the chronofield active.

"I don't care what you drink, Armata, as long as it doesn't come from a sentient being!" He shouts.