[h1][u]Ciara Ventura[/u][/h1]
[i][color=gray]Iris Record, First Floor Eastern Halls -> Third Floor[/color][/i]
[@Nanaya], [@ERode], [@AThousandCurses]

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[quote=Otis]“Don’t bother with the entrance. Third door to your left is still open.”[/quote]

[i]“So you mean to trap me within this god forsaken tower. Is that it?”[/i] Ciara thought back bitterly, turning away from Hildegunde's pathway, her eyes falling on the third door. Quickly, she darted in, throwing down a smoke bomb to block out the diffusing light. It stung her eyes, but it was enough to manifest a hefty black fist, shattering the wall in a couple swings.

Hand pressed against the bullet wound in her abdomen, Ciara half-hobbled, half-desperately ran, the bulkhead closing behind her, snagging her robe-like jacket. She tore the fabric free, leaning against the shut bulkhead for a brief moment, feeling the lightheadedness catching up with her. A few breaths, ignoring the lethargy sinking into her muscles.

Growling, she pushed off, hobbling down the hallway, westward.

The loss of blood in her system scattered stars across her squinted vision, but she saw it. Otis had spoken truthfully. The stairs. She could see them. She couldn't teleport to them like normal; the diffused light made shadows near imperceptible.

Otis’ doing?

It didn't matter. She had no way of getting back. No way of making it to the entrance. She had to continue her ascension upward. Perhaps her salvation was upward, with Davil.

Ciara dragged herself up the stairs, one at a time, stopping briefly to catch her breath. When she reached the top, however, an unexpected sight stopped her.

Upon the second floor of the Iris Record, in front of the stairwell to the third floor, was a rat.

Ciara stared at the rat for a moment, thoroughly perplexed. The Iris Record had some of the best security, didn't it? Perhaps even more than the government buildings in the big cities. 

So how did a rat end up all the way up here?

There wasn't much time to deliberate it, as Ciara could still imagine an angry Iraleth still hot on her tail. 

With the camera still emitting their cursed light, Ciara was forced to hobble on her feet all the way across the floor, leaving a trail of spotted blood behind her, to the stairwell to the third floor. She still had her eyes on the rat, wholly expecting it to run from her presence. Alas, rats were a common occurance in Vaal Kastrix, and she wasn't entirely bothered by it.

No, what was more pressing was surviving the next few minutes. The next few hours.

Leaning against the edge of the upwards stairwell, Ciara tore at her loose sleeve, wholly separating it from the rest of the robe. With her teeth, she tore the fabric into stripes, and fashioned a makeshift bandage that she wrapped around her waist, covering the bullet wound on both sides.

Something that would slow down the bleeding, [i]hopefully[/i].

With that done, she slowly hobbled up the staircase to the third floor, eyes alert for any sign of Davil.

[i]Any sign of escape.[/i]