Ciara Ventura
Iris Record, First Floor Stairwell@Nanaya,
@Psyker Landshark,
@ERode
"If no other option is deemed possible for capture, lethal force is acceptable. Until otherwise proven, I declare that Ciara Ventura is an Umbralist and an enemy of the Union. Use any means necessary.”
So that was it, then. That's what this little duel had been reduced to. What
she had been reduced to.
It made her seeth.
Ciara spun on her feet, her red eyes glaring as she saw orbs of ice sailing towards her from the Head Advisor. These were countered fairly quickly, as thick tentacles with sharp ends lunged out from her shadow, piercing each orb with a spike and halting its momentum.
That, however, left her hanging in the opening at the foot of the stairwell, giving the guards enough time to get their bearings. Instead of heeding their warnings, she instead locked eyes on Otis, standing right beside the Head Advisor and Iraleth.
With a snarl, shadow exploded from her. The shape of a dragon over her head, two wing-like hands, monstrous, and a tsunami of black, cascading down from the top of the spectator seats, all the way down to the arena, aiming to knock every single one off their feet. The guards, the Head Advisor, Otis, Iraleth; all of them. It would give her just a second, a precious second she needed to be free of bullet hell.
She hefted Otis' sword, and threw it point-first directly at him from where she was in the the upper stands.
"I'll find him myself!"And she fled up the stairs, teleporting all the way. She spared a look back as she heard shots fired, and a piercing pain struck through her on her lower back, through her abdomen. She immediately pressed on it, hunkering over, a moan escaping her.
Pulling her hand away, she saw red. Slicked blood. She'd been shot. If she wasn't careful, she'd be shot again before she bled out entirely. A whispered curse, and she pressed her hand again against her abdomen, teleporting to the top of the steps.
There were thunderous footsteps behind the door at the top. And behind her, racing as fast as they could, more footsteps desperate to catch up with her. Ciara cursed again, before she slammed the door open with a wing-like shadow hand, the other shooting into the room, clawed shadow fingers aiming to scoop up the people on the other side and smash them into the wall. She would hold them there, pressing ribcages until she could hear snapping, before she staggered into the halls. Blood dripped from her freely, but the pain only surfaced in a wince on her face, eyes hot and focused as she teleported further down the halls.
Dammit, Davil, where are you?!