Proper Fireworks (Chyril 25th Late ET) - Open

[Ashari]

"Aerin, beautiful," Were you lured by my magick meant for Aeris? She wondered briefly. "If they wished you to die in a fire, girlie, you'd be dead already. But just to be on the safe side, why don't you stay close...mmm?" One finely chiseled black brow raised quizically to the red-haired minx inviting her to stick around. Her gray eyes caught the hand upon her chest. You've been hurt, poor pet. She'd already used much of her energy, but if they were broken bones they'd be just as broken the next day. That being the case, she could help the girl then. "You know Morgan and Becca?" That was an interesting little tidbit. Ashari knew the pair from demon-fighting days. Incidentally, that was also how she came to know Ashtillion. Aerin was making important friends.

The people were well-behaved and stepped back accordingly. Thank the mother. She didn't want anyone to be more injured because of being here than they had to. The smoke inhalation was going to be bad enough. Something had to be done about that, too. Clenching her jaw she watched Ashtillion get to work.

Great swirls of aetheric energy wove around him and into his form, nearly bursting at the seams. "Goddess it's working..." Her eyes widened at the sight of vast potential of what was at his fingertips. Though, infact, what he was about to do was in part to what Ashari was doing currently. The dark haired mage funelled the energy from the crowd into his form. They could wait no longer. Ashtillion had to do something with all of that power, and the easiest thing was to let it all go.

"Are you brave, Aerin? Would you like to learn what I do? Would you like our power?" If Ashtillion's eyes flickered with the thousands of flames, then hers mirrored the souls she was surrounded with, constantly changing - alive and evolving until her black pupils swallowed their colors completely as she honed in on the fair skinned woman.

What a failure you are, Ashari... not even able to face those flames to save your friend. She swallowed hard. Mentally she was lost for a flicker to her memories. So many loved ones stolen by fire. Her parents, her brothers, and Tigrin. Here she was again, staring into the abyss. Nimble fingers caught the back of Aerin's elbow. "I want you to go to the guards. I can't leave, but you can. Run as fast as those feet will carry you and warn them of the fire. If we can't contain it here, then something will need to be done before it's too late."

And so the shield was pulled away from Aerin as Ashari stepped forward. She took a deep breath and looked over to Ashtillion. "Do whatever you can to keep it from falling upon me... I believe in you, Ashtillion... You can stop this fire. Just keep trying." She looked to his hands, and with her inner sight, she could almost feel his skin itching. "Unbind the energy. Pull it from what it needs to feed upon." There were many things that fire needed to survive - the two most important of which being fuel and oxygen. "Steal it's food or steal it's air, Asht, but make a decision or we're going to lose the entirety of Temple Lane." Gray orbs flickered over to the barrels of beer, hinting but not pushing that he could perhaps borrow some of the magickal properties of water to assist him.

With as much grace as she could muster, Ashari moved forward, wrapping her shield around her form tightly, with the front door of the Red Rose Guild looming infront of her - the halo of flames dancing upon it's roof and up the side of the building. Mother.. protect me.. please... Bringing a gust of wind with her, she meant to kick open the door but was mindful of a back-draft and ever prepared for the shot of flame should the fresh air prove too tasty for the flame's needs.

[Aerin Penna Seleratus]

"Aerin, beautiful, If they wished you to die in a fire, girlie, you'd be dead already. But just to be on the safe side, why don't you stay close...mmm? You know Morgan and Becca?"

Aerin nodded, although only vaguely listening, her eyes still upon the fire as she tried to will the structure to collapse internally, not just for the fact that such a motion would spare part of the city more than the walls falling outward would, but also because, as a child, she had been fascinated when campfires had done so – a small burst of sparks and flames erupting upward as the wood shifted.

Aerin, as well, watched Astillion for a moment although her lack of training most likely kept her from seeing any of his weave.

"Goddess it's working..."

Aerin’s untrained eyes moved from Ashtillion to the fire and back before rolling unbelievingly. So the goal here is to make the fire…burn more? Asrin tsked, not noting any change in the flames.

"Are you brave, Aerin? Would you like to learn what I do? Would you like our power?"

Aerin was still skeptical until she saw Ashari’s eyes, a flash of memory filling her of watching both Professor Pralix and Morgan at work – with the lense, she had seen the Professor’s magic in motion – without it, she had seen rocks pulled aside by Morgan’s invisible ropes. Aerin thought back to her sudden seizure of peace within the crowd…to Ashari’s voice commanding her to be still and watch the flames. Her eyes returned for a moment to Ashtillion – perhaps he was doing something that Ashari could see but Aerin could not.

Aerin’s eyes returned to Ashari and she nodded with a smile, her anger fading a bit although the flames still rolled merrily within her erogenous zones with every fleeting glimpse of the flames around them. “Yes…” came her reply.

"I want you to go to the guards. I can't leave, but you can. Run as fast as those feet will carry you and warn them of the fire. If we can't contain it here, then something will need to be done before it's too late."

Aww… will the Caesar actually have to drop his wineglass and pick up some responsibility? Aerin silently quipped, not knowing Ashari’s relationship with the unseen ruler, nor the Caesar’s interest in the burning building or in its neighbors. “Guards… Yes…” Aerin replied, checking to see if her tight dress was torn enough to facilitate a true run and, if not, ripping it enough to do so while still preserving some modicum of decency. “I will see who I can find and return only when I have someone on my heel.” Aerin promised before doing as requested, her legs breaking into a controlled sprint and her eyes and reflexes searching for any obstacles which might need avoiding.

OOC: Sidethread?

[Aeris Mourir]

From the outside of the Red Rose Guild it looked doomed. The fire was destroying the roof and with each passing flicker the single life-form within its structure lay dormant. Floating upon the warming fluid, Aeris' body twitched here and there beckoning her to awake, most likely due to the exhausting heat and noxious poisons. Whatever the case was, she was trapped not only physically, but mentally as well.

The swan maiden's mind was playing foolish and worrisome tricks on her. Her hands dug into the dry, arid sand and came up with red-tinted gloves. Somehow the presence of Amun Rah helped center and focus her mind on the task at hand. She brushed the hair out of her face and pulled it back, producing crimson highlights. Holding it in place, she moved her feet in the direction of the street since the vortex of black didn't seem all that inviting. The part of her brain that processed logic wondered if she just jumped in if it would end the dream. The same logic cast it out of her list of things to concentrate on and she pulled a rusty appearing ribbon from her waist and gracefully tied it around her half-assed ponytail. She was able to hold off the tickle in her throat thus far, but the acidic smoke was too much for her water-thriving being. Placing a free shoulder in front of her mouth, she coughed numerous times. It seemed like she would hack up one of her lungs since a single grain of sand was caught in just the right place. Once the fit had stopped she was able to focus on something that might be able to help her.

Aeris had been thrown back in Amun Rah from her overlapping dreams. She was given the choice of walking down a designated path or throwing chaos for a run and diving into the pit. She had chose the path and knowing that she was coming that much closer to her city filled her with hope. Although she was testing how much she could pack her heart in the Citadel, no place would ever compare to her fair desert city. She loved everything about it - the good, the bad and even the mundane. As her booted feet strolled down the track, her mantle wrapped around her body like a cape, she glowed pure serenity. It was relatively easy for the pen to retain her composure since she knew it was a dream. The last thing she could recall was falling asleep in her watery-grave and now she was staring at the dilapidation of an empire. On the contrary, she was quite ignorant on the events outside of her body.

Her feet tapped the brick walkway as fast as her mind wandered. She thought of Jin, who she had fell in love with and his wild sister Akuta. The town folk of the area and even her King. The last person her mind flicked to was Nadia. She was a well-meaning high priestess of Anasis who trained the young maiden. Under her tutelage she learned how to manipulate the light, that dwelled inside herself, into something visible. As she conquered more and more of the sketchy landscape she thought about why she was there.

"Neyla," the female whispered. Neyla was a spirit she had met in another dream. She had worn a blue sarong dress, wrapped around her toned body which was dyed and colored with darker and lighter tones of the cool color. Around her neck hung gold and jewels studded her ears with matching gold bracelets wrapping the ghost's wrists. The imagery was enough and as Aeris' legs continued to move, the pen's mental focus solidified. Being in the dream world, it was a step closer and made contacting the spirits that much easier.

The woman's soul searched through the vast catacombs of her brain and didn't stop hunting until the magic that linked her with the dead was found. It hovered there, a weave of every color she could imagine, knowing that such a feat was all different kinds of magic. Contacting the dead was both light and dark. She knew the aspects of both and aligned herself with Anasis, Mother of Mercy. However, the novice power the acolyte had was waiting to be coaxed, waiting to be mastered. It was a power that frightened her knowing what pains were buried long in the past.

"A leap of faith," Aeris reassured herself. Placing her free hand on her silver, swan pendant she felt something that she had never felt on the talisman before, it had been sealed over with a thin layer of silver. The curious creature scratched and rubbed the layer off and it reveal the phrase, "Unbandaged Calling" which meant little to her. Another flicker wouldn't be wasted, her mind brushed the staple of Amunic shamanism cracking the roots she had with the spirit world.

[Maeve]

OOC: Yes Aerin, good thinking. Please create one.
Please take not that from the start of this thread till now I estimate a good quarter mark has passed!

IC:
The mind is a tricky thing. Aeris, in all her delusions did remember very powerful magick that she, as an user of Amunic Sorcery, must have heard of, learned of, or was other wise aware of. It was a hint of sorts, but in this moment she could not imagine what precisely she was going to do with just the thought of magick. She did not take any action, nor was it clear that any such talisman had indeed any substance beyond her delusion.

Time, in fact, was running out for Aeris. While she had been going down memory lane the fire had been raging. Both the heat and the fumes had spread their damage already rendering her unconscious. The only solace was that it was a tender death, without pain, or discomfort, sleep luring away Aeris from the life she had led, softly sniffing her candle out while a fire of another kind roared around her.

Ashari was preparing to go inside, having to side step a flare up of the flames as she pushed open the entrance door with what would feed the flames especially. It was only a flicker's distraction, but every flicker counted. Ashari, dramatically, felt Aeris slip away from her, ever so softly, like a feather on a breeze, even as she burst into the inferno.

OOC: at this time Aeris, while I won't reverse PC death, you are allowed a last goodbye post. *hugs* As a senior player you are aware of your rights to a replacement PC.

IC:

Meanwhile outside things were heating up. The elderly woman was only the first of victims to fall to the toxic fumes that were spreading. More people were crumbling, those near the fire that had not moved out of the way were falling to their knees, gasping despite their happy smiles. The steps back had helped some, but not enough. Luckily nobody had died yet.

Ashari, standing amidst the flames and having trouble breathing, though keeping low ot the ground would improve that considerably, could no longer feel Aeris. What she coudl feel however was somebody else entirely. A familiar sense tugging on her senses. Not in the building, but outside, on the grass, beyond the first walls in the garden between the guild and the temple. Pain. Coughing. Desire to Live. Ketch.

Ashtallion, feeling his enhanced power race through is body like it never had before, was poised for action. Energy doesn't think and so Ashtallion had to do its thinking for it, determining his course of action. The power was his, but what was he going to do with it. How would he diminish the flames? How would he turn fire into another energy?

[Aeris Mourir]

Aeris is dead. Goodbye.

[Ashari]

Ashari's body moved with nimble grace as she darted out of the way of the hungry flames that shot out of the door. Acrid smoke tore at her lungs and she lifted a hand to her mouth to deflect the thick poisonous fumes. Her eyes were beginning to tear, brimming at the edges where the vapors stang and causing her to blink ferociously to clear them. Ducking down she coughed heavily and tried to see into the main foyer. Her agile body pressed down to the floor, taking in some of the clean air that the open door had provide, but it was as soon as she stepped through the entrance that she felt it.

Or perhaps, better said, was that she didn't feel it. She didn't feel anything.

Her teeth gritted against one another as she fought off the break down. Not now... you can't do this now. Her body yearned for it. Instead, her hands pressed to the floor and she forced herself backward. Leave this place. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to cry. Her body trembled and any empath would taste her emotions in their mouth as strong as blood and just as bitter.

Thieve's fingers wrapped around the ornate doorframe as she propelled herself out of the flaming building. "TAKE IT DOWN, ASHTALLION!" Her voice was sharp and demanding, but she didn't use any magickal touch. "BRING IT IN ON ITSELF!" The structural integrity of the building had already been compromised. It'd be simple to bring the flammable portions of the building into a sweetly compacted form within the stone exterior. From there, it could simmer and burn without bothering anything.

Ketch was alive. Ketch... He saved her life once upon a time. It was only fair she return the favor. Limbs moved of their own accord. He'd been generous enough as to provide her with pin-pointed directions to where he was laying, and she followed them, moving with less grace than before - her body taking on the halting listlessness of shock won over only by her adrenaline. "KETCH?!" She hollered. Ashari's voice was alarmingly loud, even to her own ears. She'd never been much of a yeller, but this evening was proving it necessary. "Ketch?! Where are you?!"

[Ashtallion Urdil]

The sorcerer took a moment, just one.

Within that moment he felt he could spend eternity. Never before had he contained soo much magical power within himself, though he knew that if he did not released the pent up sorcery soon, it would burn him from the inside out. Despite the pain, ignoring the thundering cascade of blood that pounded through him, Ashtallion Urdil revelled in the exquisite ecstacy of his magic.

He snapped back into focus, and his eyes were full of determination, hard, yet dancing with aetheric awareness. The gilded mage watched the flames, feeling the heat, basking in the beauty of that destructive power, and then sought to command it. Ashtallion heard Ashari's cry to bring down the Guild, part of him loathed to even contemplate such a thing, to bring down the source of the Guild Mistress' work. Yet, he would if he had no other choice, with so much energy in him, he doubted he could fail.

Before such drastic measurs were necessary though, he sought another option. Still feeling the energy, the elemental battlemage attempted to seize hold of the fire, the energy from which it sprang...and commanded it.

'To me. Come to me. I will brook no refusal!'

Within his mind, he chanted the command, focusing his vision of what he wanted to do. Golden eyes never left the fire as he pictured the flames, all of the flames, being pulled from the Guild, literally pulled by his mental and magical grip. He sought to have the fire encircle himself, spinning like a flaming whirlwind about the sorcerer before spiralling upwards, skywards, high above the citadel in a flaming pillar to disperse once it had nothing more to feed upon. There had best be no one near him, he was not about to spar excess energy shielding others, for he needed every fibre of strength to protect himself and wrench the firey energy from the Guild.

[Maeve]

The air was burning in Ashari's throat, a thousand needle pricks, the smoke tickling and making things worse. With watering eyes she was able to make it out of the building again while holding on to her control of the crowd, channelling their energy to Ashtallion. Barely held on that was, the physical effects doing their very distracting work of making her nauseous and dizzy.

Yet the vision of Ketch on the grass, looking through his eyes at the garden, where two trees had caught fire, and some of the shrubberies, was strong. Flames licked at the white trellis. The walls of the garden were aflame in a very atypical way, with roaring flames. Yet most of the garden wasn't touched yet, though glowing embers were threatening the temple of Pan. Perhaps Ashari managed a better connection due to everything she had gone through with Ketch, including healing his body. Coughing. From Ashari. From Ketch. Soot on scorched skin. Painful breathing. Hair singed.

She saw him the moment he saw her, past the corner, in the back near the pond that he obviously had been trying to reach. His boney frame was stretched on the grass, his usually well kept dark hair a mess. He tried to push himself up, and she could feel that it was an effort, his body protesting. "Ashari," he rasped.

Ashtallion meanwhile took a drastic step. Instead of heeding Ashari's call he instead commanded the fire. Flames quickly surrounded him. He became part of the flames, his shields protecting him from their effects. The fire was the most resistant where it had been chemically enhanced. While the crowd had been moved back there were some that could not escape the inferno that now blasted into the street and was swiftly blown upwards as a big whirlwind, a raging tornado, forming a cone with its lowest point the wizard, now ablaze, his hands upwards pushing up the flames almost physically. Those touched by the fire fell away from the pool that Ashari had created, painfully slapping upon the sorceress-mindcrafter, which saved Ashtallion from that backlash, and send her stumbling forward, further into the garden. He was in a momentum now, the fire going higher and higher up into the sky, joining the fireworks as a great ball of fire, one magnificent celebration of the Imperial coronation, a blazing sun.

Not all fire dissipated, not by far. Hearths remained, especially alongside the walls where it had originally combusted, glowing embers were everywhere, doing their damage upon the roofs of nearby buildings. Yet the Guild building itself seemed drained. It started with a groan of wood and suddenly.. the roof collapsed, as did the second floor, spreading around dust and glowing debris, raining into the pond and on the grass.

[Ashtallion Urdil]

Golden eyes were held wide open, watching the virtual whirlwind of spiralling flame, to him, it was a wondrous and beautiful sight, standing in the centre of this testemont to elemental power. Yet he dare not laugh, or even twitch, least it break his concentration. His arms were straining as the weight of the sorcery weighed down on him, with gritted teeth the sorcerer continued to push the fire heaven-wards. The heated wind stirred his shimmering hair into dancing frenzy, his robes whipped about as though caught in a storm.

He did not consider those caught up in his firey torrent, barely aware of them, every fibre of his focus was given to the maintaining of his weaving. At the back of his mind, in the shielded parts of his inner conscious, he knew he would not be able to hold the magic for long, yet he hoped long enough to give the fire time to fade. None of his power went into actually feeding the fire, to keep it burning, all he did was control it, give it direction.

The gilded mage also hoped Ashari had been far enough away from him, and although he had not directly flattened the Guild, taking the fire away had left the building weak enough that it would no doubt crumble in upon itself.

[Ashari]

Coughing and sputtering Ashari's eyes were squinted to keep as much of the smoke out of them as she could, but they still stung and her khol ran down from them in defined black channels cutting through her tanned cheeks. "K..ketch..." Her voice caught in her throad as she spotted him. Don't think about Aeris.. don't think about Aeris. You have to save him. You have to help him. His prone form, stretched out across the grass, brought her right back to the soft comfort of their last exchange and the almost-romance that followed. She was too committed to Iorn, and she couldn't see past him.

As her feet padded against the soft ground, she realized that she didn't want a life without Ketch in it. You're killing them, Ashari. You're killing your friends. No one survived more than a yahren. She'd become a plague to those she met. No, it's not like that. In the flickers it took her to get to him her mind ran through a marathon of actions. "Ketch. We have to get away from here." Her knees hit the ground and her hands went right to his shoulders, helping to lift him. She slid an arm behind him and propped her shoulder beneath his - ready to take his weight should he need to lean, but she wasn't about to hobble along. They needed to be away for when Ashtallion took the building down.

However, as her eyes were lifted from her precarious foot-placements, she saw that listening was not the case. By.. the... She swallowed and her eyes were widened with disbelief. The tornado of flames that spiralled from his elegant body caused her jaw to drop and her mouth was left agape. "Guess he is a bit of a mage." Ashari's hold on Ketch tightened as she brought him to the relative safety of the masses of people - though some of them hadn't survived.

Her ties to them had yet to be severed, and she'd not told anyone to leave. Mother, forgive me their deaths. "People!" Her voice rose to tear their attention from the funnel of flames. "Go to your homes. Sleep and forget this night as a dream in the morning." She blinked away the teary remnants of smoke and held dearly to Ketch, let he be swayed by her words (though she thought that unlikely).

The groaning of wood behind her caused Ashari to turn and watch as her building did, indeed, collapse upon itself. The roof fell into the second floor, and then both into the first - burying Aeris's body beneath rubble. Floating embers rained down upon the spectators. It was a crowd she hoped to be dwindled severely to make way for the guards that she sent Aerin to gather. Meanwhile, she looked heavenward again, watching Ashtillion with awe as he gracefully manuevered the fire.

[Maeve]

Coughing Ketch clutched at Ashari, allowing her to help him up. He was still to light headed to carry much of his own weight, leaning on her heavily. "I've seen them Ashari," he rasped ,"I've seen them do it. Lit the fire with pitchbende." His breath was wheezing. He felt worthless. He hadn't prevented it. He failed her. She, who had already lost so much. Ashari however directed his gaze towards the fireball. He stared up in the air, his mouth slackjawed. A bit of a mage? "Friend of yours?"

The crowd, once released, stumbled, staggering backwards, wanting to get out of the heat. Some bodies remained sprawled on the cobbles as people walked from the scene with a dazed look on their sooth covered faces. The fire remained, but much reduced, the crumbled building smothering some of the smaller hearths.

Higher and higher Ashtallion went up in the air, wrapped up in his ball of flames, swirling around him with such a roar that he could hear nothing else, not even the explosions outside of his sphere of fire. Explosions that were nothing less than the cheery fireworks on the occasion of the new Caesar, visible to all of the Citadel. If he dared look down all that the firey adhiel would be able to see were smudges of buildings, with small moving dots, moving like ants on an anthill.

Rapidly the flames were running out of energy burning up as Ashtallion had foreseen, now that its mundane source had been taken away. What remained were only the magickal energies that Ashtallion had drawn into himself with the help of Ashari. For one triumphant flicker the golden mage saw the last of the flames licking on his shield. Then there was silence safe for the breeze that he had caused earlier, swirling around him as he hung there as if he was suspended from a silvery thread from the stars.

The squeeze in his stomach, which suddenly travelled upwards at an alarming rate, the wind gripping at his robe, the smudges and dots becoming larger again, warned Ashtallion that he was moving down at an alarming pace now that his fire was dispersed. For some reason his previous source of energy was cut, as if it was never there. Unwittingly Ashari had forced the mage to think quickly before smashing into the crowd below, now able to swiftly move out of the way.

[Ashtallion Urdil]

He had done it, he had drawn the vast majority of the flames from the Guild. The fire had bent to him and he exhalted in the triumph.....for a single candleflicker, before his stomach leapt into his throat. "SHIT!"

The wind whipped around him at an increasingly rate as he plunged earthwards. He had not foreseen that he would rise with the flames, too intent on pushing them up, he had carried himself on the waves of heat. If he were not about to have an unkindly meeting with the cobbles, the mage would have pondered his levitation further. Suffice to say, he turned his mind to the matter at hand.

Forcing down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him, Ashtallion tried to think. And fast. Only moments ago he had been surrouned in a tornado of fire.....tornado.....wind....AIR!

Although depleted of the energies pooled into him by Ashari, energies he could have sorely used at that point in time, the sorcerer turned to his own. He was tired from the fire-weaving, would he even be able to muster this spell together? Reaching out, the mage sought to grapple for air energy and would pull hard and fast at them. He meant to weave them into his own shield, creating a virtual bubble of condensed air, thick and solid enough to act as a cushion for when he collides with the street below. In his mind, though frightened beyond reason, he knitted the threads together, an lattice network all about him, placing layer upon layer of shielded air. The mage's mind worked furiously for the energy, and even if at the end of his reserves, he did not let that stop him, gritting his teeth against the cry that he wanted to release, Ashtallion grunted with the effort of what he was trying to do.

He could see himself, hitting the ground, and only hoped the air shield held enough force to act as a cushion. It crossed his mind, amidst the weaving, that the shield could well shatter upon impact, it was a likely result, but so long as it protected him enough, it would have to do. Ashari was still down there....hopefully the Mind-mage would see his predicament and help him. Somehow.

[Ashari]

"Do you know who it was?" Ashari was elated to have a name to go with those who would be held responsible for Aeris's death. Hers had been painless as she drifted off to the aether... but theirs, the deaths of those responsible would not be so swift. "Yes... that is Ashtallion the Archmage, I'd say... though he considers himself to be just-"

To have her eyes widen any further than they already were would have been outstanding(if not plain comedic), but somehow, the shock did register in a gasp as she watched her friend's disipated tornado followed by his body slipping through the air at a rate of great speed.

In her belief 'hurtling' was a better description of the form his body took as it lost it's power thanks to her destroying his connection. "PERFECT!" She announced to no one in particular (more to herself in realization of what she'd done) at great loudness bordering on hysterics as she tried to come to grips with everything that was going on around her. The people were wandering away. Atleast that had worked. Save your selves... She wished of them, before turning her attention skyward again at her falling friend.

"Stop falling, stop falling..." Ketch might not have been much of a physical support, but finding him had been the light in this otherwise dark evening-end, and it gave her the tinge of hope she needed as she fought the urge to be consumed by grief. A needful hand sought out his, entwining her fingers amidst his, but already her mind was moving elsewhere. Precious flickers passed as she dove into her mental reserves, needing to use her own personal energy now, rather than stealing from the ever-present crowd.

Flicking her eyes shut (she didn't need to see to see her magick) she focussed on that which was Ashtallion. If one could levitate objects, and make them float and fly, then one could make flying objects stop and land (safely). In principle. It was with this in mind that Ashari found herself weaving and threading her tendrils of magick in a way that would allow her to move Ashtallion's body at her will.

First, there was the finding of his form, and grabbing hold of it with her magickal 'hand', though it was indeed, much larger in her mind than something of that dimunitive size. There was also the sensitivity one had to keep in mind, not grabbing him from the air, but catching him, and lowering his body to the ground below. It couldn't be sudden, or it'd be the same as him landing on the ground. She excercised as much caution as possible; her tendril's of energy wove to capture his body like one would when catching an egg. People, Ashari had found, were much like eggs - so very fragile.

All Ashari could hope was that her workings weren't interfering with his magick in the sky.

[Maeve]

"Michael," the thief croaked to her, coughing. They just needed a look to exchange that he was talking about the younger son of Crane.

Ketch squeezed her hand unspoken, offering his support and anything Ashari needed from him right in this moment. He held on to her firmly. In all these months his feelings had not changed even if Ashari had been confused and distant, not mentioning what was between them. He was there. He would always be there. She had once needed him. It was the most magnificent thing that ever happened in his life and with it she had broken through his shell.

As with a deep breath Ashari send out her magickal talons she felt the cushion of air that the mage had built. It was squishy though perhaps not entirely enough. As she caught him she knew there was something around him. Seeking to complement him rather than prevent him, her layer was simply added.

Ashtallion bounced twice on the ground, a strange vision for those that did not realize what was going on, before his feet landed firmly on the ground, and he could simply let go of his spells. Ketch blinked and simply watched, wearily.

[Ashari]

The name. It was all she needed to confirm her first thoughts. "That bastard will die," she said coldly. If they were in World's Mouth, this would have marked the beginning of a deadly vendetta but here in the Citadel, it was merely revenge - and it would be sweet. Michael was trying to make a name for himself by the headstone of his father's legacy. Ashari would have been comfortable sitting by to watch (so long as Tomas himself were out of danger) had Michael not taken it upon himself to do this. At this point, however, he invited her malice.

Ashtallion's body continued to fall, and it fell faster than she wished it to. The curious bubble around his body almost furthered the easy analogy to the egg. Now he even had a shell. She wrapped her magick around his outer layer and attempted to slow the decent. It wasn't working, and as his body came to fall to the ground with a speed that she was nearly positive would cause him to be suitably smooshed she watched in amazement as he bounced. "YES!" The mage squeezed Ketch's hand and wrapped him in a hug of excitement that was perhaps lacking some concern over his injuries.

Come one, come all, and see the miraculous bouncing sorcerer! She almost laughed at the absurdity of it as he bounced a few more times before landing on his feet. "Come on," she whispered and gave Ketch a quick kiss on the cheek. "We're alive." Somehow, once more, they'd gambled and won - against the odds. Shouldering his weight, she helped Ketch over to where Ashtallion landed.

Ashari removed herself from the entanglement of Ketch as soon as he seemed ready to stand on his own, even going so far as helping him sit if necessary, before practically pouncing on Ashtallion and wrapping her arms around his midsection, joining her hands together behind his back in the sort of hug one gives to family they haven't seen in a long time. Her face was buried in his robes. "I'm so sorry, I almost killed you... I didn't know.. I didn't know you were going to go so high, I just wanted to get the people out of the way," her words spilled out quickly and apologetically with the candor of her youth. Pulling away she looked up into his golden eyes - nearly opposite of her silvery gray, and she sighed. Awkward with her over-zealous physical attention, she continued abruptly. "Thank you, Ashtallion... thank you for doing what you could."

Those eyes of hers turned, then, and appraised the building as it smouldered and sparked. "Would you help me find her? Perhaps... perhaps those who helped with the Banner? Morgan and Becca?.. I can't..." She looked away, and downward, fighting back the well of emotions she was finally allowing herself to feel. "I.. can't.. leave her in there." Ashari pressed the back of her hand to her lips to stop their quivering, but the tears still came with or without her permission. Shoulders slumped as she breathed out hard, hoping to expell what she felt, but it didn't help. She felt nauseous and lightheaded and her body started to tremble.

[Ashtallion Urdil]

He landed.

He was alive.

For those first few moments he stood, legs slightly bent, frozen solid whilst the realisation that his internal organs were not to decorate the cobbles, sunk in. Pans' balls....that actually worked...., as he straightened, the world spun around him and a wave of intense nausea swept up through him. The sorcerer was about to empty the contents of his stomach onto the pavement, when Ashari wrapped him in a tight embrace. Bad idea!

Ashtallion fought against the sickness that threatened to rise from his gut, and forced it into recession, for now. His head throbbed, and he felt an inner ache, one that settled into the core of his bones. Oddly enough, he did not feel as exhausted as he expected....however no doubt it would come later once he had stopped shaking with the rush of adrenaline that suffused him

As the mind-mage hugged him, Ashtallion returned the affectionate embrace with a light, almost fatherly touch of his own. It was odd to remember that despite his appearance, the adhiel mage had lived for several decades, and was possessed of a more....mature nature sometimes.

"I'm alive.....surprisingly. Do not fret....I don't know if I would have been able to manage what I did without your help, Ashari. And I didn't know I would be flying either.....I can assure you...", he glanced upwards, "...finding that out up there was a slight surprise.", he tried to smile, but failed to. There was a sorrow in his eyes as he turned to take in the surroundings. People had died. And by the charred remains, because of his weaving. He looked into Ashari's eyes, and she would have seen the dozen emotions flit across them and on his face. Regret, horror, pain, anger....his hand rose and covered his face. It was there for but a candleflicker, and when he removed it, his eyes were as hard as ice. He was used to being in control, of himself, of his emotions, and he suspected the Mindcrafter would be able to relate to the need for suppressing potentially dangerous emotions.

"I wish I could have done more.", And if you had you'd most likely have killed yourself in the attempt.

Ashtallion had to think for a moment who Ashari was referring to, but then it dawned on him, Aeris had been in the Guild. He wanted to physically curl in upon himself and vomit at the thought he was responsible for the young woman's death. "Ashari....was I.....did I....?", his tone was deadpan, as was his expression, yet there was a shadow of foreboding skating over the ice hardened metallic eyes.

"I can.....search for her....I think....we had best see about getting the remains of the fire being put out before that though."

[Maeve]

Ketch didn't answer Ashari's determination of Michaels fate, merely squeezing her hand in support. He had years of experience in executing just such plans. Sometimes crime did pay. He wanted to pull her close for a more passionate kiss, feeling the rush of being alive run through his veins, but Ashari was already running towards Ashtallion.

Fighting to control his jealousy the thief watched their embrace, telling himself it was but friendship. Nothing made him alive more than hope. He walked up to the two of them commenting casually "That was some fireball, wizard. You know your business."

[Ashari]

Trembling continued until he suggested that it was his fault that Aeris died. "No." Ashari gave him a sturdy response. "You didn't kill her." I killed her. Everyone wanted to take the blame for the pen's death, when the only person's shoulders it would rest on would be Michael's, in due time. "It was peaceful. She didn't feel any pain." The young woman attempted to reassure him. "And we don't have to find her now, it's late and we're both exhausted, but we do need to stop the fire from starting up again."

Ashari was soothed and complimented by Ashtallion's comments. Nodding, she agreed. No doubt he wouldn't have been able to do what he had without the power of the crowd, and Ashari wouldn't have been able to help him as much as he had without them. Them. Her eyes followed his. There were bodies. "They might not be dead..." There was a hopeful tinge to her voice, pulling her from the depths of mourning once again. It was another excuse to not feel, and she was already pulling from her emotions. It was easier this way. Denial had it's place.

"It wasn't your fault.. I let them be too close. I shouldn't have. I just didn't know." She would have known if Ashtallion warned her that he was about to create a giant funnel of fire and whip it past the crowd, but that thought didn't cross her mind, she was too concerned for her friend. "Try to put out the rest of the fire. Ketch and I will take check on the people, and hopefully some guards will arrive with Aeris, soon," she said with as much empathy she could muster, which was a surprising amount (even to herself) all things considered. "Come on, I still need your help," Ash gave him a subtle elbow nudge, taking even more comfort in her mind's wandering to the matter at hand.

Ketch's comment even caused a small smile to break across her stoic features. "I only associate with the best," she gave the thief a look that said more about how happy she was that he was alive than any words could. "Ashtallion, Ketch... Ketch, Ashtallion," she introduced them informally as friends were wont to do.

Distraction. It proved most useful as she stepped from the gilded mage and went back to Ketch's side, her fingers entwining with his. "Are you ok?" She asked, first, before moving onto any of the others on the ground, wanting to ensure his safety above all else. "Or do you need any special healing..." Her eyes flicked between his, waiting for his response with the hint of a smile. They were survivors.

[Ashtallion Urdil]

The sorcerer raised a hand to wipe sweat from his brow, flying in the centre of seething ball of flame, one couldn't help but expect a certain amount of perspiration.

Ashtallion tilted hishead toward Ketch, a small tired smile twitching the corners of his lips. "A pleasure to meet you, if even under unpleasent circumstances.....and yes, I suppose I do know my business.", his glittering eyes gave him an assessing look as Ashari moved to take the man in a seemingly affectionate, if slight, embrace. His smile actually reached his eyes, pleased for Ashari if this was indeed someone she shared her heart with. Though as those eyes turned to regard the Guild once more, further off now, and the still smoldering fires that could prove yet threatening if not dealt with, the veil of icey professionalism slipped over the usual warmth held in them.

"I will see what I can do about the remaining fires.", Asht moved from the pair, somewhat unsteadily, and slowly. His legs shook under him, still trembling from the adrenaline and exhilaration brought on by his potent dose of sorcery.

He looked around for any near by water source, and then remembered the barrells that Ashari had mentioned before he created his flaming spire.

[Maeve]

Ketch nodded in recognition to Ashtallion. This did not seem the moment to shake hands.

Yet the wizard was swiftly out of his mind when Ashari turned her attention to him. Her hand entwined with his and she looked up at him, remembering, like she hadn't for a long time, both of them pretending it hadn't happened. "I will require lots of that," he told her gruffly, feeling his body react to even this simple gesture "but I can wait till we are out of here." Indeed, all he had suffered was some bad burns and intoxication from the fumes. The latter needed fresh air to heal mostly, while the first was of minor concern. "Tell me how to help and I will." He was no healer but he had two healthy hands.

Meanwhile Ashtallion recognized the tired feeling in his limbs, echoed in the Aether. He was tired. He was still capable of magick, simply breathing would do that, but he would be wise not to attempt great feats. His look around reminded him of the beer kegs that still stood to the side, part of the festivities. There was also , further down, a fountain, now obscured by the crowd but calling to his sense. And behind the building, in the garden, a pond and several leaking pipes for the Red Rose Guild had been blessed with the most marvellous plumbing that only the palace it self surpassed. There was still the option of Ashari leeching those in her surroundings again in a surprising show of mindcraft that showed its close link to the Dark Arts, blurring the lines, to supply him with extra energy. Of course the great crowd had dissipated and by nature it would never be as much as it was.

[Ashtallion Urdil]

Taking a deep breath, and closing his eyes for a few moments, the golden haired magus focused himself once more. His nerves were frayed, both physical and those that sensed the aether after so much power had thrummed through him and into the fire. Asht refrained from weaving anything too big. He moved closer to the still smoldering Guild and made sure he had a better view of the pond in the garden, the sorcerer exhaled and sent out his mage-sense towards the water, seeking to touch the much more tempermental elemental energy it possessed. The wizard sought to pull the water from pond, just as he had the fire from the guild....but less agressively. His mind pictured the water rising in rope like tendrils, swaying with his hand gestures and over to the remaining fires that still clung to the guild.

If successful, Ashtallion would pour the water over the flames, hoping to help put them out.

Failing this, he would have to get more help, either from the locals, or the university.

[Ashari]

Ashari found the strength to smile weakly at his returned flirtation. It had been easy to mingle earlier that evening, prowling at the Coronation and trading eyes with Jacob. This, with Ketch, it was complicated. Ash didn't like the complicated bits much. It was those very same bits that made it difficult with Iorn. It was the reason she ended up cheating on him. She found solace in the company of another merely because she was scared she'd spend the rest of her life with him without chance of anything else. Looking into Ketch's eyes, she realized she was doing the same thing to him; holding him at arm's distance away. Eventually, it would be too late. At some point he would stop waiting. "Thank you," It was all she could say before walking toward the people who lay on the ground.

Fingers went to shoulders, wrapping around them to roll people over on their backs should they be slumped forward, to have Ashari's hand pass over their mouth to check for breath, then pressing her hand to their chest, and lowering an ear to their mouth, listening and detecting for signs of life. She was no healer, and she'd learned little in her short apprenticeship with Belawen, but she had watched the Priestesses of the Mother as they healed the wounded following the orcish raids. "Are there any healers?!" She shouted above the din of the nearby crowd, her voice resonating through the more empty area.

"Ketch, what about at the Temple?" She said, looking up from the first person she'd reached. "Might they have healers?" There was more of that silver-lining. "This isn't what I do, with you that time, it was just a one time thing..." That was the honest truth, and to further the truth, she wasn't sure if after all she'd already done she'd be able to heal all these people, and that was assuming that they weren't already dead. Quickly she took count of the number of injured, and tried to guage the severity of their injuries.

[Maeve]

Simple things. How often did not the professors of the University of Magick preach this to their students? Think of the way of the least resistance, of that which is around you. As Ashtallion reached out with his Aether sight he saw the water energy float around, surrounded by air, another, easily manipulated energy source. It had been here all along. With little effort, despite his exhausted limbs, he reached out for the water. His exhaustion made concentrating difficult, but his move was a simple one. It did not have to be a precision bombing. Splash.

Ashari and Ketch were doused in it as Ashtallion wove his tendrils and moved it to the remaining rubble of the Red Rose Guild. While the building it self was easily dealt with, the water was also needed on the roof of Pan's temple and several surrounding building as the fire had threatened the whole Quarter before Ashtallion shot it the only way it could no longer damage the Citadel.. straight up in the air. So looking a terrible mess with sooth smeared everybody Ashtallion never the less was concentrating on his work and ignoring all else.

Standing there dripping Ashari finally saw some movement coming from the direction of the crowd that Aerin had run towards. Their blue coats easily identified them as the city guard of Ranier Marshall. He of course was nowhere to be see, nor was Aerin. "What is going on here," one of the rough guards asked the wet Ashari, then looking at the obviously wounded people gaped a little, turning before ordering "Go fetch the healers from Mother's temple."

Ketch was already on the way to the temple of Pan, having no wish to be under close scrutiny of the Blues. On stealthy feet he slipped inside to find out if there was anybody there that could assist. "No one here Ash," he yelled standing on the stairs of the temple "Looks like they are all out partying." One of the guards was already running back to the temple of the Mother, giving the shouting thief a weary look. Ketch waved friendly at him. You can't catch me.

[Ashari]

The Blues. A sigh of relief. Once upon a time she might not have been so relieved to see someone in uniform, but now it had become a welcome sign. His question, however, was somewhat mystifying in it's obviousness. "A fire." She commented dryly, though her form was far from that description thanks to Ashtallion's well-done flooding. Ashari nearly swam in the dress, and felt chilled to the bone in the cool night air.

Ketch's call tore her eyes from the man before her back to him, his arm waving in the air toward the disappearing guard headed for the Mother's Temple. She smirked, but quickly reverted to a more blank face when turning to face the guardsman. Ketch was such a tease. "I don't know how it started... I was headed home from the palace with Lord Ashtallion Urdil," she wasn't actually sure what his real title was, but knew him to be of a noble house, so Lord was good enough for the girl not yet fully trained in etiquette. "We came to my house and.. and..." Here, she snuffed appropriately, but the feelings weren't in it. She couldn't cry infront of someone like him. Ashari didn't even know who he was, but she made a good act of it. "Everything was in there." A tanned arm, soaked and shaking from shivers, lifted and pointed to the building. She might not have meant for it, but sincerity was coming to the surface as she thought of how she felt as Aeris's soul slipped away.

"Aeris Mourir, hero of the demon-hunt, was inside. I fear she didn't make it." To say she knew it to be the case would likely to be questionable. "Ashtallion saved as many as he could," she continued. "He stopped the fire, and he's dousing the remaining flames." Ashari had no problem giving him the honor of heroics. He deserved it and she wanted no part of it. "But..." Here, she pointedly returned to those who were strewn about like forgotten dolls after a little girl's tantrum (and isn't that what it was?). "But there were those who couldn't be saved, may the Mother watch their souls," Ash's teeth clenched together, remorse settling into her again.

[Ashtallion Urdil]

Not realising he had drenched Ketch and Ashari, the oblivious sorcerer continued to weave his water magick, pulling it from the pond firstly, however upon seeing and feeling the water energy present in the very air around him, he pushed through the tiredness and sought to gather the threads of water energy and pool them in to the tendrils of liquid he already manipulated.

He may have been coverd in soot, his robes clinging to him from the sweat he had perspired due to the intense heat of being inside a ball of fire, hair hanging limply and with slightly less luster than he would normally have, however the magus still held his proud bearing. Exhausted and needing food to replace his own energy, he still managed a look of grim determination and lordly standing. The sorcerers arms moved with practised grace, weaving an intricate dance as he wove his sorcery.

Focusing on the fires that still burned on the Guildhouse, if he was successful in putting out the majority of them, he would turn his attention to the Temple. Out of the corner of his eye, Ashtallion spotted the men in blue and there was a certain amount of relief in him also. Hopefully the soldiers would arrange other to carry water from the nearby fountain and help him in dousing the flames.