Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28144855-20190919151013/@comment-123347-20190923014256

With a sudden gesture, he flushes an open grasp upward, prompting a stream of lightning to pour from the sky, somehow translating through the cerulean. Somehow translating through the ceiling, phasing through as opposed to crashing through.

All of it, on Berthony's hand, filtering galvanizing lightning through his entire body, taking every bit of his cloth in a thunder lick, yet dismantling nothing. It gathers and recedes in his hand, charged with volatile electricity.

He takes a gander at his hand now fervently gleaming like lightning-charged flesh should be. Empowered as opposed as devoured by the element, its pigment, whiter with hints of blue.

He clenches it before turning to the man who sought to explain to him. His gaze behind his dark frames are split from disbelief and stoicism "Ok, yea. I think I believe you now, as ludicrous as this is. Anyway, might as well call dibs for first..."

Once again, Berthony raises his electrically charged hand to the ceiling before slamming it down to floor in an instinctual gesture, again, caught in the bewilderement of it all "Totally wouldn't have believed the first guy telling me I'd make some summoning technique for a frame of war. But hey, puddin' right here anyway..."

A pentagram scribble itself to reality, feeding the lightning clogged through his palm, returning it to normal as it illuminates, leaving more lightning to dance around it, gathering itself once more to the heart of the pentagram.

And then, a flash. A flash leaping to the heavens and back to its heart, this time, with an object at the middle. A statue coated in stone chiseled by time. The statue is that of a man. A shinobi on his knees, face and body concealed by what would be metal and silk was it not for stone. An inert and idle statue.