Steven is just about to start willing his vines to gently curl around Rita for some additional support, intending on slowly lowering the two of them to the courtyard, where they can figure it out from there. However, Rita never quite gets the chance.
"RITA!" Steven screams after her, desperately climbing down his own vines to try to get to the window. His own vines struggle and tangle with the blackened ones that have begun to grow over - he tries to force his hand through them, to wrench them apart, but its no use. All that happens is that they start curling around his hands instead, trying to draw him in. The thorns still can't seem to cut him, but the pressure of the vines themselves are enough to make him yelp in pain.
"Rita... Rita I can't get in!" he keeps calling, breaking down into helpless tears again. He can't bear to leave her behind. But the vines are crushing his wrists, and if he lets them draw him in any further he won't be able to escape.
The vines holding him up start to waver, smothered out by the Queen's thorns. Suddenly, his weight is being supported by his hands, jerking the rose's coils down with him until the point that he slips free.
His own vine coils around his fingers, just barely catching him as everything begins to slip. He thuds into the side of the building, but there's no use climbing. His eyes are still set on that window as his vine drops him down into the courtyard.
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"RITA!" Steven screams after her, desperately climbing down his own vines to try to get to the window. His own vines struggle and tangle with the blackened ones that have begun to grow over - he tries to force his hand through them, to wrench them apart, but its no use. All that happens is that they start curling around his hands instead, trying to draw him in. The thorns still can't seem to cut him, but the pressure of the vines themselves are enough to make him yelp in pain.
"Rita... Rita I can't get in!" he keeps calling, breaking down into helpless tears again. He can't bear to leave her behind. But the vines are crushing his wrists, and if he lets them draw him in any further he won't be able to escape.
The vines holding him up start to waver, smothered out by the Queen's thorns. Suddenly, his weight is being supported by his hands, jerking the rose's coils down with him until the point that he slips free.
His own vine coils around his fingers, just barely catching him as everything begins to slip. He thuds into the side of the building, but there's no use climbing. His eyes are still set on that window as his vine drops him down into the courtyard.