[ It might take a minute, but between the four of them, one of them finds Cloud's sword from the Sutoku's armory, discarded in the heat of the moment. ]
[ The man himself, as they will likely realize, is not far from it - buried under the debris. When they find him, it's - well. He's in a bad way. ]
[ Anna's coat, thankfully, is still in plenty wearable condition - perhaps slightly worse for the wear than it had been before it was force to bear the brunt of the curse, but not notably more tattered, if in sore need of some cleaning and treatment. Matoba's charm, with had been placed against Cloud's chest, is torn to little more than scrap paper, having done its best, but been overwhelmed when Cloud charged in. ]
[ The man himself seems to be clinging to consciousness like a drowning man, his breath ragged and his eyes unfocused. He can just barely make out the blurry shapes of the rest of the basement squad as they break him out, but understanding where he is, what he just did, is beyond him - a cursory examination is all it would take to realize the frenzy's symptoms have seeped down to his very bones, and it's a combination of two layers of protection, a stubborn will, and sheer luck that he's even alive.]
[ He opens his mouth to speak, a rattling breath escaping him. The young man's entirely on autopilot now - he's clutching at his bicep in a death grip with one hand. His skin is pale and clammy, his entire body locked up as if already in rigor mortis. ]
Not... getting rid of me... that easily...
[ That's all you're getting out of him, basement squad. He's not even really here. ]
no subject
[ The man himself, as they will likely realize, is not far from it - buried under the debris. When they find him, it's - well. He's in a bad way. ]
[ Anna's coat, thankfully, is still in plenty wearable condition - perhaps slightly worse for the wear than it had been before it was force to bear the brunt of the curse, but not notably more tattered, if in sore need of some cleaning and treatment. Matoba's charm, with had been placed against Cloud's chest, is torn to little more than scrap paper, having done its best, but been overwhelmed when Cloud charged in. ]
[ The man himself seems to be clinging to consciousness like a drowning man, his breath ragged and his eyes unfocused. He can just barely make out the blurry shapes of the rest of the basement squad as they break him out, but understanding where he is, what he just did, is beyond him - a cursory examination is all it would take to realize the frenzy's symptoms have seeped down to his very bones, and it's a combination of two layers of protection, a stubborn will, and sheer luck that he's even alive. ]
[ He opens his mouth to speak, a rattling breath escaping him. The young man's entirely on autopilot now - he's clutching at his bicep in a death grip with one hand. His skin is pale and clammy, his entire body locked up as if already in rigor mortis. ]
Not... getting rid of me... that easily...
[ That's all you're getting out of him, basement squad. He's not even really here. ]