a starter for @spellweaverbladed !!
“this is a joke.” he throws his keyblade noisily to the ground. wipes the sweat off his brow.
sweat? why is he sweating? he’s doing magic, for heaven’s sake. that’s not sweaty work.
“this isn’t gonna work,” he says to aqua, scowling. maybe some would call that naysaying, but terra calls it realistic. it’s true that aqua’s the one who’s best at magic. it’s true that he’s ‘focused’ and ‘breathed’ like she said he should—‘found his balance’ or whatever and tried to shoot a spear of ice at the target like she’s already demonstrated a hundred times.
and it’s true that every time terra’s aimed at the bullseye and uttered the spellword, nothing has happened. only snowflakes.
jaw setting and brow furrowing as he looks back toward the castle. failing to usher the angry edge back out of his voice as he speaks. “look, i know a few blizzard spells and that’s enough. let’s just go back inside.”