Other than the injuries, nothing else would stick out without further prodding via magic or manipulation. It would be safe to say that, right now at least, Chunji probably has a few seconds of Ethos use before entering rebound, at the moment.
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Since Nicole's Adapa can no longer be connected to, does that mean Otis no longer has access to the security systems of the Iris Ascendis?
Yep, the security access would disappear when he checks up on it.
Since Otis brought it up, would Chunji be able to identify whether or not Davil is afflicted with a curse?
If he were to look into it, there would be no obvious signs of a curse upon Davil.
If someone were to respond fast enough to see something happening and then react by using a method of essence detection, they would see a bundle of negatively-charged nama in the area by Ciara's bed, pressing down on it. Apart from that, it doesn't appear as if it came from anywhere in particular, it would've seemingly just emerged all at once from nothing; then, just as quickly, entirely disappearing without a trace the moment that the pressure on the bed stopped. Both the sudden appearance and disappearance of that much emotional essence would stand out as odd, as typically the manifestation of power through nama requires long and intense build-up before any kind of physical payoff occurs. It would also be odd that it appeared to not belong to anybody, as though it was closest to Ciara, it didn't seem to emerge from her as it entered, or into her as it left, it simply existed and then didn't.
This is all, of course, hypothetically if one were to analyze the situation as it happened!
This is all, of course, hypothetically if one were to analyze the situation as it happened!
@AThousandCurses@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark@ERode
As Otis would send his message to Nicole, he would receive an immediate response in text. It would read, "The recipient could not be found. This is the result of an invalid essence link, a cancellation of Adapa functionality, or the damage or destruction of the recipient's Adapa. In the case of damage, please retry in 24 hours. Thank you!" It was sent in reply quickly enough that it was almost certainly automated to account for such incidents. After receiving this message, Nicole Malthruse's name would receive a '(?)' at the end.
Kann turned to Otis and nodded, gesturing to Davil. "See to it that the boy maintains stability for a few moments. Whatever cut him, conventional methods aren't patching up the results as well as they should be. If I had to speculate, I'd almost say that the concept of stagnation was literally ripped into him. Which would normally be alright, but it's only affecting intake and not discharge; he's leaking essence and blood at the regular rate for an injury of this severity, while taking essence in at a much slower rate in comparison."
The doctor would withdraw a vial from his breast pocket and hand it over to Otis, walking briskly towards the door. "I'm heading to find Doctor Sylv for permission to access the conceptual extracts. If things get bad, that vial is a fleetness extract directly torn from the plane of wind. It'll certainly be enough to bypass the stagnating effect, but it'll go well beyond that, and the boy could die almost instantly if his prime essence is incompatible. You have my permission for its use if the boy's facing certain death before I return. In the meantime, uh... keep him alive! You've got potions and maybe a bit of healing, eh? Good stuff!"
With that, he would turn back one last time, nodding to the students as if sending them upon a grave task, and vanishing out into the hallway. As he did so, the gargoyle would chuckle as he looked upon the wounded in the room. "Doc's out, and das wot's gon' win y'all's the day, eh? Peachy keeeeeeeen..." It would continue grumbling similar nonsense and chuckling, and the healing effect would continue to all who met its gaze.
In Ciara's mind as she lay there, the high-low voice would again return, chuckling darkly. Ciara felt its presence around her, but could not see it. "Your end will not be here, Ciara Ventura. I will not let it be in such a place. A demise as grey as this ill befits you."
The sound of chittering, frostbitten teeth circled around her in her mind - an image that, whether she was familiar or not, would ingrain itself. Each inhale was heat, and each exhale an avalanche; the breathing of a being that was sustained through means incomprehensible to the living. She would eventually feel the pressure of the presence settle near her, at her side, pressing upon her pillow and by her bedside.
"Through mortal will, you survived the knight, the mage and the dark. Lives ended from your whims, and you gave them no thought. Davil Wund himself was merely a bargaining piece, was he not? You care not for the boy, but for the moralistic satisfaction it brings upon you to save another to rid yourself of the guilt of killing innocents. You are exactly the machine I saw, the steel I sharpened, the rock I carved. You have done well. If any would attempt to end this journey for the duration of your recovery, rest assured, Ciara Ventura..."
The pressure on Ciara's bedside would increase, creaking the bedframe - the sounds of pressed fabric and stressed wood echoing through the clinic room. This wasn't merely a delusion in Ciara's head, Iraleth would see the pressing of something heavy yet invisible on the side of Ciara's bed, leaning it to one side and pressing down on a vacant part of Ciara's pillow. Nevertheless, the high-low voice to follow would still only be heard in Ciara's mind, rupturing in her ears with static and distortion, as if in pure rage.
"I̷̮͗͝ ̸͔͍̯͗̆͆̊W̶͉͛͑̚I̴̛̩̐̿̂͆L̷͔̞̾͆̒̈́̇L̵̟̓͒̂͌͠ ̷̢͔̦͎̔Ķ̵̜̲̱̮́I̷̛̗̝͚͗̏̃̉Ļ̵͈̝̱̼̂̀L̷͇̑̉ ̶̢͓̲̻͔̂͋͒͠Ţ̷̥̪̟̺̒̽Ĥ̷̹̞̩̇͋͗Ë̵͖̥̞͇̗M̶̯͋̒̃ ̴̣̘̻̟͆̎̽͊M̵̹̝̓̆͋͐͠Y̴̺̥̿S̷̛͓͔̥͒́͠Ḛ̴̡̘̙̼̄̏L̵̛͜F̸̨͙͎̼́̉̒.̶̡̟͚̽"
All at once, the pressure on the bed would release, though the slight cracks in the bedframe would remain, as would the imprint on the sheets and pillow from moments prior.
WINGRAM CLINIC
As Otis would send his message to Nicole, he would receive an immediate response in text. It would read, "The recipient could not be found. This is the result of an invalid essence link, a cancellation of Adapa functionality, or the damage or destruction of the recipient's Adapa. In the case of damage, please retry in 24 hours. Thank you!" It was sent in reply quickly enough that it was almost certainly automated to account for such incidents. After receiving this message, Nicole Malthruse's name would receive a '(?)' at the end.
Kann turned to Otis and nodded, gesturing to Davil. "See to it that the boy maintains stability for a few moments. Whatever cut him, conventional methods aren't patching up the results as well as they should be. If I had to speculate, I'd almost say that the concept of stagnation was literally ripped into him. Which would normally be alright, but it's only affecting intake and not discharge; he's leaking essence and blood at the regular rate for an injury of this severity, while taking essence in at a much slower rate in comparison."
The doctor would withdraw a vial from his breast pocket and hand it over to Otis, walking briskly towards the door. "I'm heading to find Doctor Sylv for permission to access the conceptual extracts. If things get bad, that vial is a fleetness extract directly torn from the plane of wind. It'll certainly be enough to bypass the stagnating effect, but it'll go well beyond that, and the boy could die almost instantly if his prime essence is incompatible. You have my permission for its use if the boy's facing certain death before I return. In the meantime, uh... keep him alive! You've got potions and maybe a bit of healing, eh? Good stuff!"
With that, he would turn back one last time, nodding to the students as if sending them upon a grave task, and vanishing out into the hallway. As he did so, the gargoyle would chuckle as he looked upon the wounded in the room. "Doc's out, and das wot's gon' win y'all's the day, eh? Peachy keeeeeeeen..." It would continue grumbling similar nonsense and chuckling, and the healing effect would continue to all who met its gaze.
In Ciara's mind as she lay there, the high-low voice would again return, chuckling darkly. Ciara felt its presence around her, but could not see it. "Your end will not be here, Ciara Ventura. I will not let it be in such a place. A demise as grey as this ill befits you."
The sound of chittering, frostbitten teeth circled around her in her mind - an image that, whether she was familiar or not, would ingrain itself. Each inhale was heat, and each exhale an avalanche; the breathing of a being that was sustained through means incomprehensible to the living. She would eventually feel the pressure of the presence settle near her, at her side, pressing upon her pillow and by her bedside.
"Through mortal will, you survived the knight, the mage and the dark. Lives ended from your whims, and you gave them no thought. Davil Wund himself was merely a bargaining piece, was he not? You care not for the boy, but for the moralistic satisfaction it brings upon you to save another to rid yourself of the guilt of killing innocents. You are exactly the machine I saw, the steel I sharpened, the rock I carved. You have done well. If any would attempt to end this journey for the duration of your recovery, rest assured, Ciara Ventura..."
The pressure on Ciara's bedside would increase, creaking the bedframe - the sounds of pressed fabric and stressed wood echoing through the clinic room. This wasn't merely a delusion in Ciara's head, Iraleth would see the pressing of something heavy yet invisible on the side of Ciara's bed, leaning it to one side and pressing down on a vacant part of Ciara's pillow. Nevertheless, the high-low voice to follow would still only be heard in Ciara's mind, rupturing in her ears with static and distortion, as if in pure rage.
"I̷̮͗͝ ̸͔͍̯͗̆͆̊W̶͉͛͑̚I̴̛̩̐̿̂͆L̷͔̞̾͆̒̈́̇L̵̟̓͒̂͌͠ ̷̢͔̦͎̔Ķ̵̜̲̱̮́I̷̛̗̝͚͗̏̃̉Ļ̵͈̝̱̼̂̀L̷͇̑̉ ̶̢͓̲̻͔̂͋͒͠Ţ̷̥̪̟̺̒̽Ĥ̷̹̞̩̇͋͗Ë̵͖̥̞͇̗M̶̯͋̒̃ ̴̣̘̻̟͆̎̽͊M̵̹̝̓̆͋͐͠Y̴̺̥̿S̷̛͓͔̥͒́͠Ḛ̴̡̘̙̼̄̏L̵̛͜F̸̨͙͎̼́̉̒.̶̡̟͚̽"
All at once, the pressure on the bed would release, though the slight cracks in the bedframe would remain, as would the imprint on the sheets and pillow from moments prior.
Sorry for the delay! I can get things going tomorrow.
@AThousandCurses@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark@ERode
"Winds out of my sails, you all came directly from the tower?!"
The receptionist would recoil in horror seeing the wounded, exhausted group suddenly entering, setting his Adapa aside a moment to move over to them. The mannekin would react on instinct to the emerge of sudden essences with the preparation of rifles, quick head turns towards the new arrivals, and then a return to their regularly programmed guard duty. At the very least, the measures taken were enough to avoid a firing squad on one specific member of their party - for now. The receptionist shuddered at the reactions of the clockwork soldiers, but nevertheless moved to gently retrieve Davil. He'd nod towards Chunji gingerly, uttering, "At least you're composed enough to speak in such a calm- OH GOOD GOD."
The receptionist stumbled back a step as Chunji toppled over, almost dropping Davil. He'd summon the clinic Adapa to his side and scream into it, "DOCTOR KANN?! DOCTOR KANN!" A moment later, rapid paces from behind the doorway leading to the treatment rooms would approach, and a rather scrawny looking dwarven man in a white coat would burst out. He'd take one look at the group and sweat, clenching his teeth as he rushed towards Chunji's body with a panic. Withdrawing a crimson potion with all the shakiness of a caffeinated rabbit, he would cram it into Chunji's mouth unceremoniously - and only after another moment realized his mistake, shouting out a cuss instantly in reaction.
"Shit! I didn't uncork it! Uhhhh, sorry, buddy, one sec...!"
Pulling it out of Chunji's mouth, he would flick the cork off the potion and once more desperately cram it into Chunji's mouth, successfully healing the boy enough to where he at least won't bleed out. He'd then quickly sling Chunji over his shoulder and begin moving towards the door he entered in from, encouraging the group to follow. The receptionist would nod as well, following along with Davil in his arms. "Doctor Kann is one of our best practitioners here, studied right under Doctor Sylv herself! Though she's busy right now, so we need to make do with what we have," the receptionist would explain anxiously, following the dwarven doctor into the halls.
Were the party to follow, they would arrive in a room not too far from the waiting room, which was more spacious than the private treatment rooms - naturally, at the cost of that very privacy, with nothing more than thin curtains obscuring each of the four beds within. Kann would be muttering, "I can't believe they're bleeding so much, oh lord, this is horrendous. I should've just taken the internship at Strigari, guhhhhh..."
The receptionist would set Davil down on a bed, then give a brief nod to the rest of the group. "I need to stay in the front, but let me know if there's anything else you need! Until this matter is fully settled, I can't allow myself to stray. Doctor Kann will assist all of you, so I leave you in his care!" With that, assuming nothing stopped him, the receptionist would walk out; rubbing the sweat off his forehead and looking down at the blood on his clothes.
Meanwhile, Kann would stride over to Davil and begin casting various stabilizing and healing based spells. In between his first and second cast of a basic Astrite 'Heal' incantation, he would look to Otis who appeared the most able, and pointed towards a cabinet next to Chunji. "Healing potions're in there if any of you need some, owl. Emotional extracts too, if he's nama-deficient; which, based on how his face looks, I gotta assume he is! We've got conceptual extracts locked somewhere too, but I ain't got permission for that without Doctor Sylv's say-so. She runs a tight ship, unfortunately, but that's why I'm here. If anyone can handle this, I Kann!"
Inexplicably, near the corner of the room, what could only be described as a gargoyle given flesh and scales sat perched on top of the vacant bed across from Chunji. It stared across those within the room with a little grin, but otherwise stayed silent - the only reason to believe it was living at all being its slow blinks and the small chuckles escaping from it occasionally. It wasn't clear how long it was there, but it certainly was now. Those who held eye contact with it as it scanned the room would begin to slowly but surely feel their more superficial wounds close up, for seemingly no reason at all.
WINGRAM CLINIC
"Winds out of my sails, you all came directly from the tower?!"
The receptionist would recoil in horror seeing the wounded, exhausted group suddenly entering, setting his Adapa aside a moment to move over to them. The mannekin would react on instinct to the emerge of sudden essences with the preparation of rifles, quick head turns towards the new arrivals, and then a return to their regularly programmed guard duty. At the very least, the measures taken were enough to avoid a firing squad on one specific member of their party - for now. The receptionist shuddered at the reactions of the clockwork soldiers, but nevertheless moved to gently retrieve Davil. He'd nod towards Chunji gingerly, uttering, "At least you're composed enough to speak in such a calm- OH GOOD GOD."
The receptionist stumbled back a step as Chunji toppled over, almost dropping Davil. He'd summon the clinic Adapa to his side and scream into it, "DOCTOR KANN?! DOCTOR KANN!" A moment later, rapid paces from behind the doorway leading to the treatment rooms would approach, and a rather scrawny looking dwarven man in a white coat would burst out. He'd take one look at the group and sweat, clenching his teeth as he rushed towards Chunji's body with a panic. Withdrawing a crimson potion with all the shakiness of a caffeinated rabbit, he would cram it into Chunji's mouth unceremoniously - and only after another moment realized his mistake, shouting out a cuss instantly in reaction.
"Shit! I didn't uncork it! Uhhhh, sorry, buddy, one sec...!"
Pulling it out of Chunji's mouth, he would flick the cork off the potion and once more desperately cram it into Chunji's mouth, successfully healing the boy enough to where he at least won't bleed out. He'd then quickly sling Chunji over his shoulder and begin moving towards the door he entered in from, encouraging the group to follow. The receptionist would nod as well, following along with Davil in his arms. "Doctor Kann is one of our best practitioners here, studied right under Doctor Sylv herself! Though she's busy right now, so we need to make do with what we have," the receptionist would explain anxiously, following the dwarven doctor into the halls.
Were the party to follow, they would arrive in a room not too far from the waiting room, which was more spacious than the private treatment rooms - naturally, at the cost of that very privacy, with nothing more than thin curtains obscuring each of the four beds within. Kann would be muttering, "I can't believe they're bleeding so much, oh lord, this is horrendous. I should've just taken the internship at Strigari, guhhhhh..."
The receptionist would set Davil down on a bed, then give a brief nod to the rest of the group. "I need to stay in the front, but let me know if there's anything else you need! Until this matter is fully settled, I can't allow myself to stray. Doctor Kann will assist all of you, so I leave you in his care!" With that, assuming nothing stopped him, the receptionist would walk out; rubbing the sweat off his forehead and looking down at the blood on his clothes.
Meanwhile, Kann would stride over to Davil and begin casting various stabilizing and healing based spells. In between his first and second cast of a basic Astrite 'Heal' incantation, he would look to Otis who appeared the most able, and pointed towards a cabinet next to Chunji. "Healing potions're in there if any of you need some, owl. Emotional extracts too, if he's nama-deficient; which, based on how his face looks, I gotta assume he is! We've got conceptual extracts locked somewhere too, but I ain't got permission for that without Doctor Sylv's say-so. She runs a tight ship, unfortunately, but that's why I'm here. If anyone can handle this, I Kann!"
Inexplicably, near the corner of the room, what could only be described as a gargoyle given flesh and scales sat perched on top of the vacant bed across from Chunji. It stared across those within the room with a little grin, but otherwise stayed silent - the only reason to believe it was living at all being its slow blinks and the small chuckles escaping from it occasionally. It wasn't clear how long it was there, but it certainly was now. Those who held eye contact with it as it scanned the room would begin to slowly but surely feel their more superficial wounds close up, for seemingly no reason at all.
Done!
Realized that a lot of what's going on with the party proper doesn't involve much in the way for me, so it's a shorter one on that end this round!
@ERode just for timeline clarity, the POV cut of the cathedral fight would be towards the end of your next post, rather than the start of it. Basically, everything written about the cathedral fight up to that point plays out during this round of posts.
@ERode just for timeline clarity, the POV cut of the cathedral fight would be towards the end of your next post, rather than the start of it. Basically, everything written about the cathedral fight up to that point plays out during this round of posts.
@ERode
The fight within the conjured cathedral, beheld only through Otis' screen, continued on. The orb of gravity gained in speed, but not fast enough to pursue its intended target with the haste it needed. Nicole raised a brow towards the Umbralist, staff trained on him, taking up a firm stance as if anticipating recoil on her next cast. Beforehand, however, a scoff escaped her. "Surely the upkeep on that spell is not worth what it now offers you. Why continue it?"
The Umbralist's head turned to the side, and then towards the orb. With a severing motion of his hand, the orb dissipated, and the remaining lead trapped within slammed into the cathedral ground as useless, discarded rubble. The haze under the hood prevented any estimation of a facial expression, but that void simply stared towards the Undermage with a lingering that could only be assumed to be wrath. Even still, he didn't respond, apart from to tighten the shaky grip around his dagger as Iraleth's light suppressed the encroaching dark.
"I can only imagine the chain of command you had to slither up to plan this, such that it would align with the chaos of an arena bout. And for what?" Nicole would question this while flames began gathering at the end of her staff. "The death of one boy? No true Umbralist remnant would reveal themselves for such a trivial thing, even were it for an Ethos user. Either it was for some grander purpose, or... you are not quite who you assert yourself to be."
Fire spiraled in a crackling sphere around the staff in her right hand. The Umbralist crouched low in an instant, extending his free hand as multiple blasts of shadow hurtled towards Nicole. In response, the pages of the tome in her left hand fluttered as she simply uttered, "Shield Array," and a wall of phantasmal heater shields materialized in front of her. Not one bolt pierced the defense as she smirked, her face painted with condescension. The Umbralist took a stomping step backwards in hesitation, fear coursing through his body. "A twincaster?!"
Nicole's left eye opened as her grin spread ear to ear. It was an unremarkable grey, but in the next blink, a flash of gold spread across the cathedral emanating from it. It was as if a sun resided in that eye for a moment, and it stared right through the cultist before her. "A mystery that you will perish with. Rebound nearly reached, yes? I suppose that means your essence was not saved purely for this battle. A shame."
It was as if the Umbralist had slowed after the flash of gold, and the flames circulating around Nicole's staff had reached a blinding high. "Ms. Kyrios informed me that conventional assault will not work, and judging by the Revolver Shadow at your feet, that is true. Though that is only true so long as the shadows remain."
The Umbralist dropped his dagger and desperately raised his arms in a cross guard, his Personal Barrier becoming reinforced beyond reasonable limits, as if realizing something. But he'd only realized it too late as Nicole circled her staff and opened her mouth to speak the incantation.
"Fireball."
Wrath incarnate shot from the staff towards the Umbralist, flames potent enough to turn the target to ash. However, it became apparent quickly that the fireball wasn't heading towards the cultist - rather, it was shot at an angle such that it was curving and spiraling upwards towards the light that Iraleth had created within the cathedral. As this happened, Nicole dashed towards the Umbralist, two more fireballs conjuring rapidly atop her staff and tome respectively. At the midway point towards him, the initial fireball impacted with Iraleth's light; and the Undermage's expression once more returned to a place of cold neutrality.
"I will end you instantly in a world without shadows."
As flame and light met, the view of the camera went entirely blank, engulfed in an explosion of light so blinding as to paralyze any who relied on sight. Soon after, the feed would cut entirely on Nicole's side; and by extension, Otis' perspective on the remainder of the fight.
@AThousandCurses@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark@ERode
The darkness of the halls was beginning to fade. If it was brought upon by the Umbralist's pull over this place through the cathedral, it was a clear sign as any that said pull was loosening. The fluorescent lighting of the ceiling continued to remain off, and the cameras continued to malfunction, but the dark was not so oppressive any longer, and one might move at a normal pace through it now without struggle; apart from, of course, the struggle of battle. As that was noted by those present, footsteps could be heard stomping from further down, and the shouting of various people. "Advance," some of them would shout, pushing through their own fear, some clearly out for blood. They had their targets, and were they to run across them, there would be no mercy nor words. As the blood of allies stained the walls and floor of the Iris Record, it was only blood in return that would satisfy the masses who guarded this place. Terror and trauma had given way to rage, and it would soon be upon the third floor.
The hatred was almost tangible. Davil stabilized as he was worked upon, though he had fully lost consciousness by now. He wouldn't last for very long without proper treatment, but it was enough to ensure he'd make it through the next five minutes at least, assuming he were treated with care while moved. In a mutter before his eyes fully closed, mind cloudy from drugs and magic, he had simply uttered, "S-Sorry..."
Were Otis to check in about the state of the clinic, he would see a few students within the waiting room, huddling in corners or readying weapons in defense. The receptionist tapped away desperately at the establishment's Adapa, and mannekin stood on guard - presumably out into the halls and exterior of the building as well, but definitely at attention in the waiting room and near the entrance most prominently. It was clear that warnings had been sent out by now, and even cafeteria and transporter mannekin were being armed with some level of consideration for the situation. They were clearly given their orders, and now moved and scanned with mechanical efficiency.
It wasn't likely that these mannekin would attack suddenly if registered students entered, even via teleportation; unless, of course, one of those students was their target. Their usual crossbows, spears and cooking equipment were replaced by clockwork rifles, and they would wield those against designated threats with ruthless efficiency.
IRIS RECORD, 3F, CATHEDRAL
The fight within the conjured cathedral, beheld only through Otis' screen, continued on. The orb of gravity gained in speed, but not fast enough to pursue its intended target with the haste it needed. Nicole raised a brow towards the Umbralist, staff trained on him, taking up a firm stance as if anticipating recoil on her next cast. Beforehand, however, a scoff escaped her. "Surely the upkeep on that spell is not worth what it now offers you. Why continue it?"
The Umbralist's head turned to the side, and then towards the orb. With a severing motion of his hand, the orb dissipated, and the remaining lead trapped within slammed into the cathedral ground as useless, discarded rubble. The haze under the hood prevented any estimation of a facial expression, but that void simply stared towards the Undermage with a lingering that could only be assumed to be wrath. Even still, he didn't respond, apart from to tighten the shaky grip around his dagger as Iraleth's light suppressed the encroaching dark.
"I can only imagine the chain of command you had to slither up to plan this, such that it would align with the chaos of an arena bout. And for what?" Nicole would question this while flames began gathering at the end of her staff. "The death of one boy? No true Umbralist remnant would reveal themselves for such a trivial thing, even were it for an Ethos user. Either it was for some grander purpose, or... you are not quite who you assert yourself to be."
Fire spiraled in a crackling sphere around the staff in her right hand. The Umbralist crouched low in an instant, extending his free hand as multiple blasts of shadow hurtled towards Nicole. In response, the pages of the tome in her left hand fluttered as she simply uttered, "Shield Array," and a wall of phantasmal heater shields materialized in front of her. Not one bolt pierced the defense as she smirked, her face painted with condescension. The Umbralist took a stomping step backwards in hesitation, fear coursing through his body. "A twincaster?!"
Nicole's left eye opened as her grin spread ear to ear. It was an unremarkable grey, but in the next blink, a flash of gold spread across the cathedral emanating from it. It was as if a sun resided in that eye for a moment, and it stared right through the cultist before her. "A mystery that you will perish with. Rebound nearly reached, yes? I suppose that means your essence was not saved purely for this battle. A shame."
It was as if the Umbralist had slowed after the flash of gold, and the flames circulating around Nicole's staff had reached a blinding high. "Ms. Kyrios informed me that conventional assault will not work, and judging by the Revolver Shadow at your feet, that is true. Though that is only true so long as the shadows remain."
The Umbralist dropped his dagger and desperately raised his arms in a cross guard, his Personal Barrier becoming reinforced beyond reasonable limits, as if realizing something. But he'd only realized it too late as Nicole circled her staff and opened her mouth to speak the incantation.
"Fireball."
Wrath incarnate shot from the staff towards the Umbralist, flames potent enough to turn the target to ash. However, it became apparent quickly that the fireball wasn't heading towards the cultist - rather, it was shot at an angle such that it was curving and spiraling upwards towards the light that Iraleth had created within the cathedral. As this happened, Nicole dashed towards the Umbralist, two more fireballs conjuring rapidly atop her staff and tome respectively. At the midway point towards him, the initial fireball impacted with Iraleth's light; and the Undermage's expression once more returned to a place of cold neutrality.
"I will end you instantly in a world without shadows."
As flame and light met, the view of the camera went entirely blank, engulfed in an explosion of light so blinding as to paralyze any who relied on sight. Soon after, the feed would cut entirely on Nicole's side; and by extension, Otis' perspective on the remainder of the fight.
@AThousandCurses@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark@ERode
IRIS RECORD 3F
The darkness of the halls was beginning to fade. If it was brought upon by the Umbralist's pull over this place through the cathedral, it was a clear sign as any that said pull was loosening. The fluorescent lighting of the ceiling continued to remain off, and the cameras continued to malfunction, but the dark was not so oppressive any longer, and one might move at a normal pace through it now without struggle; apart from, of course, the struggle of battle. As that was noted by those present, footsteps could be heard stomping from further down, and the shouting of various people. "Advance," some of them would shout, pushing through their own fear, some clearly out for blood. They had their targets, and were they to run across them, there would be no mercy nor words. As the blood of allies stained the walls and floor of the Iris Record, it was only blood in return that would satisfy the masses who guarded this place. Terror and trauma had given way to rage, and it would soon be upon the third floor.
The hatred was almost tangible. Davil stabilized as he was worked upon, though he had fully lost consciousness by now. He wouldn't last for very long without proper treatment, but it was enough to ensure he'd make it through the next five minutes at least, assuming he were treated with care while moved. In a mutter before his eyes fully closed, mind cloudy from drugs and magic, he had simply uttered, "S-Sorry..."
Were Otis to check in about the state of the clinic, he would see a few students within the waiting room, huddling in corners or readying weapons in defense. The receptionist tapped away desperately at the establishment's Adapa, and mannekin stood on guard - presumably out into the halls and exterior of the building as well, but definitely at attention in the waiting room and near the entrance most prominently. It was clear that warnings had been sent out by now, and even cafeteria and transporter mannekin were being armed with some level of consideration for the situation. They were clearly given their orders, and now moved and scanned with mechanical efficiency.
It wasn't likely that these mannekin would attack suddenly if registered students entered, even via teleportation; unless, of course, one of those students was their target. Their usual crossbows, spears and cooking equipment were replaced by clockwork rifles, and they would wield those against designated threats with ruthless efficiency.
Sorry, been busy for a few days! I can try to get the next round up tomorrow.
@AThousandCurses The main difference between potions and medicine would be whether spellcasting or rituals were involved in some way in the creation; alchemists and by extension the alchemy they practice are especially desired due to alchemy's tendency to produce both kinds of restoratives. So in theory, a potion could be boosted by opioids while still being considered more potion than medicine.
@AThousandCurses The main difference between potions and medicine would be whether spellcasting or rituals were involved in some way in the creation; alchemists and by extension the alchemy they practice are especially desired due to alchemy's tendency to produce both kinds of restoratives. So in theory, a potion could be boosted by opioids while still being considered more potion than medicine.
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