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Revision as of 01:38, 11 October 2019


Kasyr has done a pretty good job of shooing people out of the training room, at least for the immediate moment. Partly because he has the distinct hunch that despite whatever he says, there's the distinct possibility of collateral damage. In any case, whether they receive the message he leaves for them, or sees the one pinned to his office door urging them to visit the training room imminently- they'll find him seated in that room, flanked on either side by a collection of papers and booklets. And yes, he's already drinking from a flask of whiskey, but look, it's been really rough recently. He needs to make sure his liver is working.


Quintessa shows up to the training room shortly after viewing the notice, it wasn't like she hung around his office or anything, but she noticed when things were out of place. Kasyr could only want her in the training room for one thing, and it probably involved her punishment for messing u before the battle the other day. She can't help but smile to herself when she walks through the halls, her pale digits wrapped around the hilt of her katana. Although she's wearing her school uniform, mini skirt and all, she comes ready for a fight, equipped with her spike-heeled boots and heavily armored sleeve on her left arm. She's learned the importance of defenses since the last time she fought anyone one on one. With a loud -click-click-click- on the hardwood floors, the hex blade enters the training room and approaches Kasyr, looking at the flask of whiskey in his hands. "Already getting started are we?" She asks, pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail.


Karasu is already perched upon the beams of the training area by the time Quintessa arrives. She had actually received the note long before, but found no real reason to hurry up. Her armor was broken, her swords were broken, what, was he going to break her pride too? Her once hazel eyes are still stained pink from days before, and the best chromomancers in the mage network could not find a reason behind the strange change. 'You're SURE they were green before?' One asked. "I'd join in, but I kind of have to stay awake for whatever we're doing here." Karasu speaks, announcing her presence. With a grunt, she raises herself off her stomach and jumps down the twenty or so feet, landing gracefully as felines do. She wears her usual heeled and very booby-trapped combat boots, along with burgundy shorts that reveal the leopard spots on the skin of her legs and a long sleeved black shirt. Her hair is surprisingly longer than it was just days ago, now sitting below her shoulders. Her eyes flicker to Quintessa's sword with a hint of jealousy before looking back up at Kasyr.


Kasyr runs a hand through his hair, some vestigial streaks of black that have refused to wash out marring his otherwise flawless transformation from sniveling slave to classic Kensai. Taking in a breath, he sets the flask off to one side, before he launches into what he'd internally dubbed today's lesson. "Alright. So, I've been doing my best to try et measure where you two are. Et, to that extent, whilst I still have a number of questions- I've also started to see areas that can be worked on, or improved. That said, whilst I -far- prefer field training, it turns out that I might have been too over-enthusiastic about applying it." Quintessa is given a bit of a look here, and Kasyr can't help but look a little bit impish, if only because whatever punishment she'd been hoping for, well.. "Which is why I'm assigning you some studies, with essays attached." Those stacks of pages, and the associated books are patted a bit for emphasis, before Kasyr turns his attention towards Karasu, "In your case, You've mentioned an interested in fieldwork related to infiltration, and you do seem quite enthusiastic about combat. So, I'd like you to provide me a paper on both magical et weapon styles which have historically benefited those endeavours. I won't reduce points for contemporary sources, et bonus marks will be applied for highlighting the pros et cons as they apply to your own situation." Here, Kasyr turns his attention towards Quintessa, "As for tu, I've seen asofar as solid grasp of offensive applications of your magic, but less so on the defensive half. Whilst it -es- valid to lean on the advantages provided by your physiology in something like a more personal encounter, your recklessness es a weakpoint. I'd like to see a paper on the application of your magics towards defensive purposes, et innovations towards them." The Kensai pauses, allows them to sink in, and then casually adds, "I've also borrowed a -few- books on stealth, et infiltration- similar to what I recommended to Kara, but also some ..others." Kasyr taps the books that more or less are flanking him, before adding "Now, while there is more to say et do, I want to make sure you have all this down, both of you."


Quintessa looks over the gathered assortment of books and begins to read off the titles of the ones she read before. "That's 'Applied Energistics'," she bends down to look at some more, "And this is 'Basics of Evasive Evocation'. Where do you think I learned how to cast 'Ice Wall' anyway?" She seems annoyed by the prospect of doing more homework but she quickly resigns herself to this reality. "Fine, thank you, Master Kasyr," She bows her head low to him before turning to face Karasu, "But I know you didn't call us both here to give us homework. You could have had us meet you in the library or a council meeting room. What's really going on here?" She looks over the feline, noticing something is missing, "Where are your swords?" the hex blade asks, genuinely curious. Those were nice swords, much better than the cheap katana Quintessa owns.


Karasu looks like she's going to cry suddenly. Upon closer inspection, her eyelids have taken on a pink tone too, and are a bit puffy. Has she been... No, no way. The Great Karasu doesn't cry! "They. Broke." The spell blade manages to say through a clenched jaw. With a deep exhale, she strides forward, and a satchel tied to a belt loop on her hip jingles with broken katana shards. Books are taken at random. "I'll do my best to meet your expectations, Master." She says, though her tone lacks the usual enthusiasm it usually does. "You said to relate the weaponry styles to my situation. What exactly is my situation again?"


Kasyr actually feels a little bit satisfied at the gloom his little punishment has managed to instill- especially when he recalls just how eager she seemed at the prospect. And then he's less self-satisfied, and more perturbed, and in need of a drink. Bottom's up. It's only when it's empty that he squirrels it away into his vest, to add, "I wouldn't -entirely- overlook the reading there. I left some notes about one of my former students, who managed to show a fair degree of promise with a blade, despite having started out primarily as a magus. Et she carried the same penchant for frost in her style as you did." Redirecting his focus to Karasu, the swordsman adds, "I mean that in a few ways. For one thing, you'd considered an interest in stealthy endeavours." He just needs to pause here, stare up at the ceiling, and take a breath. He's not even trying to rub it in at this point, but here we are. "Which es definitely a career with many practical uses. Hell, I imagine there's many talented mages that have even applied themselves to being vigilantes or assassins. But that sort of endeavour works best with a specific skill set. It's also important to factor in your relative strength, size, speed, weight, your own affinities with magic, as well as recognizing your own limitations et working around or compensating for them, in the face of that sort of .. career." Kasyr shrugs a bit, and then adds, "Anyways, that should summarize things relatively well. Now, let's get to the whole business of why I actually called you here, enfin." Bearing in mind, what Karasu had said only a few days ago, as well as her current state, he actually feels a little bit bad when he manages to rather awkwardly append, "Which es to say a combat exam." Here, his voice creeks just a little, "...Against your fellow student."


Quintessa looks like she's about to cry too. "Broken?" The jingle of blade fragments affirms this knowledge. Broken just like her heart. Quintessa has been running around with somebodies old garbage for a weapon, so she understands how heavy a blow this is. Kasyr's words do much to cheer her up. Swordsman? Ice magus? She darts over to pick up the book, thumbing through it quickly. "You can't mean...?" He does. If she could have stars in her eyes, she would, "Of Course! I should have been studying her all this tiiiime!" She hugs the book close to her chest before the real reason they were here is unveiled to the apprentices and she sets the book down slowly. "But her swords?" She turns to face her friend, walking away from the desk to slowly circle Karasu as her hand moves to the hilt of her own sword. "If she fights me without a weapon, she'll be horribly injured." There is no sense of mockery or overconfidence in Quintessa's voice, she simply is worried that she'll hurt her if they fight.


Karasu leans back somewhat, crossing her arms over her chest. There's venom in her voice as she quips, "Aye, unless your plan is just to have Quintessa get rid of the lesser apprentice for you." Mood successfully worsened. "But, we don't need to fight with swords, do we? Some of us attack with poison." Well, if the feline didn't know about a certain incident before, she sure did now. Karasu clicks her heels together, and blades emerge from both the front and back of the sole.


Kasyr clears his throat a bit as he pushes himself up to his feet, giving Karasu's current improvisation (and her height) a bit of an appraising look. Really, for all the world he seems disconnected from the atmosphere of the room, as he squints and momentarily frames her between the thumb and forefingers of his hands. It's only after a few moments that he stops scrutinizing and claps his hands together, "Lesser...poison... what? Is there something I need to know? Other than the possession bits? Anyways." And then his hands spread apart, a schism of distorted air forming in the aftermath. Quintessa might recognize the mundane looking Katana that seems to crystalize into existance- though it was distinctly shorter this time. And not being flung at her. "Will this suffice?" He doesn't really wait for an answer, since he simply slides it across the room, and resumes a seated posture, observing the pair, "But yes, you're entirely fair to go and use anything else at your disposal, up to et including knives, or fisticuffs. In fact, I'm rather keen on seeing martial prowess here foremost. Don't use your magic for anything -other- than defensive purposes. Victory on Unconsciousness, surrender, or if they're effectively at your mercy." And then there's a slight glance towards Karasu, "Don't. Hold Back." There's a look cast towards Quintessa, but it's more scrutinizing then anything, if only because if anything, she'd need the opposite advice. "Tell me when you're both ready."


Quintessa clicks her tongue at the feline, a smirk slowly growing on her face. If she is surprised that Karasu found out what the hex blade did to Laharl, she doesn't show it. "That's because some of us aren't afraid to fight for real." Her maleficent aura slowly spreads out from her body as a black mist, hanging low to the ground like an eerie fog. "Not all of us play at fighting and break our weapons." Her smirk twists into a grin and the oppressive gloom of the changeling's presence consumes the entire room, dimming the light coming in through the window. "No offensive magic? Fine." The pressure of her aura lifted, but the gloom still remained. "I don't need magic to defeat her. I am ready."


Karasu lowers herself to the floor without taking her eyes off her opponent to retrieve the borrowed sword. The oppressive aura sends chills down her spine, though her face does not betray it. Her tail, however, bristles with the distinct sense of danger. At first, she is determined not to let Quintessa's taunts get to her. She knows better and has been through worse from her schoolmates back when she was still learning the blade. Yet, something about that last statement sends her on edge. She has been training for years, and some prodigy -she- had brought in was now overconfident of her ability over Karasu? Nevermind the fact that Karasu had outright admitted to Kasyr before that she didn't even believe in her own ability against her fellow apprentice. Were it not for the laws of this match, a ring of blue fire would have already consumed the changeling. Karasu straightens and turns just slightly. "Really now, that's cruel. Were it not for the hit I took, the Razurath would have escaped the limits of Gevurah's curse." While she speaks, her fingers sip into the satchel and enclose around a thick shard of silver. A flick of her wrist is given at the last syllable of 'Gevurah', and the shard is suddenly sent flying at Quintessa's face. A clear distraction, Karasu uses the opening to step forward and make a swing of the sword.


Kasyr is getting ready to give the signal for them to begin, when he takes note of the projectile that's sent hurtling, seguing into him just huffing, running a hand through his hair, and offering a non-commital, "Or, you can start now, I guess." Clearly, there's a lot of unresolved tension here. Which only reinforces the point that he -probably- should have really run a more diligent background check on both of them. In any case, the Kensai's seemingly relatively fine with how things are unfurling, given he's just patting his jacket to find a smoke. "-Try- not to let your tempers get the better of you. That's how mistakes are made." Okay, so he is paying attention.


Quintessa is hyper alert, the bloodlust already causing the adrenaline to pump through her veins. She doesn't mind that Karasu doesn't seem phased by her psychological attacks, she just enjoys talking down to people. Mismatched eyes flicker to the hand that moved to her satchel and then back again. Slight of hand? She would have to do better. The hex blade ducks under the shard of silver as it buzzes over the changeling's head and her right hand quickly grips the hilt of her katana. Her left hand assists in freeing the blade as Karasu moves in and by the time she reaches her Quintessa has stood with her sword brought up to catch her adversaries attack. "So you -can- fight." Caught in a sword lock, the hex blade presses back, applying the leverage of her taller form before she gives one last push and shoves off her attack, taking a step back to ready her counter attack. Wordlessly, she brings her sword down with enough force to slice the feline right down the middle. She commits so much to this attack that the tip of her sword slams right into the floor, leaving a large gash before her lithe form glides around to Karasu's right side. Even if she didn't avoid that attack, Quintessa flips her blade and brings it up, aiming to sever the feline's right leg completely before finishing her flourish with a simple horizontal slash for her midsection. The hex blades's feet continue to carry her away after the attack is executed, until about two meters separate the two apprentices and her katana raises up defensively to hang between then. She sincerely hopes she didn't overdo it, but she has a lot to prove right now.

Karasu stays light on her feet as the sword meets Quintessa's own. The height difference serves to cause a grunt to escape from the spell blade, but it is soon met with an identical step back to Quintessa's. Not foolish enough to take on the force of her sword with this borrowed piece again, the half-feline easily sidesteps the attack with a hop. As the changeling flips her blade, Karasu throws her leg forward as if to kick a ball. The daggers affixed to her boots swing up towards Quintessa's wrists, intent on either knocking the blade from her hands or impairing her hands enough to prevent her from holding the sword in the first place. Her leg continues upward, past Quintessa's face, and she rolls with the leg into a backflip that paces her another two meters away before the blade connects. There is a slight pause as she gauges Quintessa for possible injury, but then she is on the offensive again. With one hand, splintered pieces of steel are sent flying at Quintessa at different heights, and Karasu closes the distance with each throw, the sword in her hand seemingly forgotten. As soon as she's sure that they have established a rhythm of Quintessa's dodging, the remainder of the shards in her hand are thrown at once, and Karasu makes a horizontal swing of the sword.


Magik randomly appears on the steps leading up, head hung low and occasionally wiping black goo from his nose as he scribbles in his notes.


Quintessa expected Karasu to dodge, so when she counterattacks with her dagger-tipped-boots she is ready. "Tarian iâ!!" the changeling screams, a pair of ice-disks martializing, one hovering inches above her vulnerable forearm to absorb the impact of the kick. The improvised buckler scatters to pieces, but it served it's purpose in protecting her. The second ice-disk is brought up as tiny pieces of steel are lobbed in her direction and she pulses her magic into to expand her shield, the buckler becoming more of a spiked towershield as it spreads out quickly like a giant snowflake. Mismatched eyes peer through the translucent ice, taking note that Karasu is drawing closer and closer until- "Not so fast!" She charges her, a shield-bash meeting the force of Karasu's sword swing. Again, this is enough to destroy her protective spell, but that's what they are for. With the towershield gone, Quintessa is free to go on the offensive. As ice shards skitter across the floor, the changeling rushes the half-feline aiming to impale her tiny body right through her chest before stabbing again, and again, trying to poke her full of holes before she can escape again. Any sense of mercy she had at the start of the fight has completely evaporated.


Kasyr is doing his best to maintain an impartial facade, at least currently. Being a consummate professional is hard though, given he's always been one to enjoy a good fight. He also may have slightly missed the mark on shooing people out of the training room, because were the fight not so personal, he probably could have stirred up some people to start betting."Daath would probably frown on that." Would he though? Really? Bloodsport is -totally- drow.


Karasu jumps off the ground kicks against the thrusting edge of Quintessa's sword. As she lands, she miscalculates! The ice makes the floor slippery and she's almost immediately on her rump. As her opponent closes the distance, Karasu begins a chant. "Ignem sacrum Xalious praesidio!" The sword in her hand emits a bright blue light, and the same blue flames Quintessa had once seen in the Fog Forest surrounds her. It technically wasn't an offensive spell if it just kept her inside and kept Karasu safe!


Quintessa is about to stalk towards the prone Karasu when she is suddenly surrounded by fire. "What!" she growls, her aura expanding outwards as rage consumes her. She wasn't in control of it anymore, but she made no effort to focus it in on the halfling (even though she really wants to) and cursh her under its might. The changeling stands up straight and begins to chant, "Rhewi maes y frwydr! Rhewi ' r byd!" and the temperature in the room drops by several degrees, enough that the rest of the floor is quickly covered in ice. The pale fingers of the hex blade point to the ring of blue fire and she shouts "Wal o rew!" and the tower starts to shake. From the floor bursts a thick ice wall that encircles her parallel with Karasu's flames. It snuffs them out as the barrier smashes into the ceiling, bits of rocks falling from above before the changeling utters, "Chwalu," and the wall shatters as quickly as it appeared. When Quintessa is visible again her bloodthirsty grin has returned. "Now, where were we?" she coos as she steps towards her, her katana lifted into the air slowly.


Kasyr was seated cozily a few moments ago. Now he's currently perched atop a hastily summoned Katana, and doing his best impression of a gargoyle, given the manner he's managing to balance on on it's length as it hovers in the air. To say that he looks sour with the recent developments is an understatement. The fact that the cigarette he was retrieving is currently stuck under a thin lair of ice is contributing to the look of disgust painted on his face, though the oppressive ambience is certainly toxic enough a factor for the empath. "Mon Dieu."


Magik 's concentration is broken by the tower's sudden movement, as well as the debris crashing about. His fiery eyes look up to quickly scan the room. "Wasn't I just.." he questions to himself. As Tessa and Karasu start making a mess of things, he notices Kasyr for the first time in perhaps years. The pointy-toothed elf would offer him a slight nod should they meet each other's gaze. Afterwards the Lyastri quickly puts away his notes to focus on the spar before him, mainly to study his apprentice, Quintessa.


Kasyr stops glaring death and daggers when he takes note of Magik. There's a familiarity there, but he can't quite put his finger on it. He's still polite enough to offer a brief lil wave, though. ..And then it's back to looking Ticked.


Karasu falters as the aura reaches the hafling. It was unpleasant yet familiar, and she hated it all the same. She really has no intention of harming her best friend, but it would seem as though now it was kill or be killed. The adrenaline that coursed through her before jumped now, and her pupils slitted into pinpricks. "Fulgur a peccatis." She raises her sword up as a conduit, and lightning manifests forth, striking in rapid succession both around and near Quintessa. "Vox domini impiarum animarum." The manner in which this spell is said comes from a voice just a hair distorted to any that could pay attention to such trivial changes. Her sword swings at the air, and a blast of thunder follows, surely intent on shattering the hex blades' eardrums.


Quintessa charges through the lightning strikes, the electricity of some of the strikes zapping and her and burning her clothing as she tosses the idea of self-preservation out of the window. What was going on again? Quintessa can scarcely remember. She is about to bring her blade down upon her when her body is racket by the thunder, and she abandons her attack to flinch against the shockwave. For a long moment, the only thing she can hear is a loud ringing and then nothing except her own heartbeat. A loud, horrible scream emits from her and her aura zeros in specifically on Karasu, forgetting about all the rules in her temporary deftness. Her voice echoes against the walls, distorting the way the room appeared as it bent the light that managed in make its way inside the training room. Tiny, purple and black eyes appear all around Karasu, each staring directly into her soul. As they glare at the spell blade, the oppression and gloom become stronger, and the pressure increases much like the gravity had been turned up for her. "You're breaking the rules!" she hisses, ready to unleash an offensive spell of her own as black, shadow flames engulf the edge of her katana. "Yield, or I END YOU!" From the look in her eyes, she meant it. While Quintessa's flesh that took the brunt of the lightning is still sizzling, smoking raising from the wound in her shoulder, she lifts her katana up, ready to strike down at Karasu with her flame strike if she refuses to obey.


Kasyr let's out an ired hiss, steam trailing up from between pressed lips as he the spar continues to devolve into a grudge match. One hand reaches into his coat to pull out a copper coin, index finger and thumb bracing it in place for just a moment as an ambient charge of electricity surges through- sending the rapidly melting wad of metal bolting forward through the middle of the room- to clash with the protective wards in there with the screeching of metal and a hiss of steam. "I'll fire the next one through both of you." He's looking especially peevish, though not at Quintessa, for once.


Kasyr dropped 1 copper.


Magik arches a brow at the two, wondering what they could be possibly fighting over. He keeps quiet even after noticing Kasyr's distaste for the festivity. A pale palm is held up before him, forming fiery miniature replicas of the two females, mimicking their attacks before the pyromancer. The word "yield" forms in cursive flames above Tessa's mini-self. Having never done that before, Magik smirks at himself.


Karasu has to take deeper and deeper breaths as the eyes bore down on her. Something on the back of her neck seems to glow with a white light, though its appearance is distorted by the effect of Quintessa's magic. Inky tendrils make their way through Karasu's eyes and engulf her iris. A feral grow rumbles low in her chest and she drops the sword, holding her palms up in surrender. "Clearly, someone chose the wrong vessel. If only the fool had been to the Black Pond that night instead." The strange voice that echoed through the enchanted beads that night resurfaces. The screech of the coin echoes throughout the room and the second Quintessa's stance shifts, Karasu is off her feet, aiming to impale the hexblade with the borrowed katana.


Quintessa glares down at Karasu, her hand shaking with rage so much that the katana in her grip vibrates. When she turns her palms upward in an act of submission, the flame fades away and the eyes all disappear, one by one with a pop. Her growl softens until it is gone, but her blade still remains held aloft. What was she saying about vessels? She is distracted for a moment, first by her racing thoughts and then next by the shot of copper that flew past her. Mismatched eyes look away for a second before- "Ack!" The weapon made for Karasu penetrates her through her left side, running her through when she wasn't watching. "What?" Quintessa looks down slowly, and smiles slowly, proud of the sneak attack. She chuckles before coughing up blood, her katana dropping to the floor as her strength leaves her. The changeling's mismatched eyes look into pink optics, and she smiles again, wrapping her hands around the hilt of the sword currently stuck in her. "I... I knew you had it in you." Everything was starting to get a lot heavier and colder. "Is this what... shock feels like?"


Karasu is only barely present in the moment as she looks down while something warm envelops her hands. Blood. Her blood? The eyes drift upwards to the body that the blood belongs to. "Let this be a lesson to her. No one is safe from the embrace of Vakmatharas." The black sclera recedes to white, and Karasu stands whole again, staring down as Quintessa slumps to the floor. "A... Ah...!" Her face grows white and she lets go of the sword, starting to scream. Hadn't she been fighting with the blunt side of the sword?! "Kasyr!!" She screams up to him, withdrawing the sword and pressing down with both hands on the wound.


Quintessa lies on her side, blood gushing out as she weakly hold her wound tightly. "It's okay... She says weakly, "It honestly doesn't hurt that bad." She looks up to Karasu with love and adoration. "I'm glad it was you... I always wanted it to be you..."


Kasyr is already in the process of vaulting off his perch, hitting the ground in an awkward dash that rapidly turns into a more controlled slide- fully intent on closing the distance to the best of his capability, to close the distance. What harshness that had started to form at the tip of his tongue ebbs, however, when he sees her already in the process of applying pressure. "Quintessa, Focus. Don't Babble." And a moment later, only slightly kinder, "Please." And then the kensai's glancing over towards Magik, whose prior deftness with fire had clearly been noticed, "I could use a hand to cauterize the wound. Now. Unless tu can fetch a proper healer -before- I get to work." Ignoring the fact that his throat seems awfully dry in the moment, and he could probably use another whiskey to steady himself, The kensai starts trying to focus himself, something rather akin to nervous humming issuing from under his breath, his hands falling somewhat parallel to Karasu's. This has just been a disasterous week, hasn't it? And it's not even Wednesday. "I'll need answers, after this." And then he's back to humming, reaching into that connection he carries as Daedria's Blade.


Karasu holds her head with her hands, fat tears running down her face as Kasyr gets to work. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." She keeps repeating, starting to hyperventilate between sobs. "What's going on down here-- Karasu!" The doors to the training area are thrown open, and Provost Esoterica Tsuji looks upon the scene. A swear escapes his lips, followed by something Kasyr would hear as, "Not again." He turns on his heel and walks back out towards the mediation center. "We have an emergency, we need healers now!"


Magik shakes his head as Karasu's blade make a nice little incision in Tessa. The Lyastri gets to his feet and quickly makes his way to the ever growing pool of blood. He knows it's not a time for a teaching lesson but he makes a comment anyway as he makes his way over, "There's that anger getting you in trouble again." As he kneels next to the changeling, he quickly presses a hand to her wound. "Tessa, don't make any sudden movements." As he turns his head away, he looks to Kasyr with a slight smirk playing across his features. Sure, he could take the pain away and heal her up as good as new, but what's the fun in that. Did Kas say cauterize? Great idea! Fiery eyes look back to Tessa as he firmly presses onto her wound. Magik's hand begin to emit thick black smoke as his hand reaches optimal temperature to put a nice sear on her. So unnecessary. As the smoke dissipates, Tessa should feel a sudden cooling sensation. After a breif moment, he removes his hand with no evidence of any damage had happened. Normally he would have a smart remark for her but he quickly shuffles back to the stairs away from the trio. He holds onto his stomach as he collapses on the steps. A faint groan is heard before he vomits that good ole black flaming goo.


Quintessa looks around the room. Had it always been spinning like this? She was sinking deeper and deeper into a dark pool, the voices of Karasu and Kasyr barely hearing them from the pit it felt like she as lying in. "Kasyr?" she asks weakly, not really understanding what was being said, "I'm glad I got to meet you," She hears another voice enter the room but she can't see them. Was it that handsome teacher, Provost Tsuji. How embarrassing for him to see her like this. Bleeding out was so undignified. And then, who was this, "M-Magik?" she chuckles, coughing up blood again, "What are y-?" She winces against his healing, it stinging a bit before the healing takes place. Even nonholy healing magic was painful for her to bare, but she would be thankful in a moment. With the wound successfully healed, she relaxes, her body finally laying flat on the floor.


Kasyr s' humming has a purpose- well, beyond just soothing his nerves, and helping to blank out the ambient noise. Music belongs to Daedria's domain, and still holds the truest connection, despite The Ascendis' long silence. Magik's retorts don't provoke much reaction from the Kensai, given his focus was wholly devoted to ensuring her internal organs don't rupture or tear further, but he does offer an appreciative, "Thanks" for the quick and easy barbecue job. The ensuing retching noises, however, are enough to coax the Kensai's currently alert and perky ears to fold back, "Please don't be contagious, Tabernac." Still, with Quintessa relaxing, the swordsman pull backs, as he tries to gauge her current condition. "Well. Clearly there's unresolved tension between you two. Et I don't just mean what we last talked about. We need to talk. About this poisoning thing, et possession thing." The Kensai pauses and then adds, "After you've had some time to rest. Et sort things out."


Quintessa motions to Karasu to lean closer before to parts her lips to whisper something to her. Quintessa whispered to Karasu, "I'm sorry about Laharl... We got into a fight over you I- I didn't mean to almost kill him." She pauses to catch her breath, "I love you, Karasu, I always have. Ever since you saved me from the fire elemental. You're the real reason I wake up every morning... But I hurt someone you love... Please, forgive me."


Magik sighs as he manages to sit upon the lower steps of the staircase, wiping his mouth, then directing words towards Kasyr, "It's just a bug..or whatever. Seems to be contained to just me."


Kasyr said to Magik, "Flaming tar bile es not really the 'Common' cold, now es it?"


Magik said to Kasyr, "Neither is having these black whips of energy lash out sporadically."


Kasyr gives Magik a squinty look, "If it ends up not being contained with you- I might have to stab you et toss you out a window. Quarintine measures et all that." That's not how Quarantines -work-, but, y'know, Okay. "Anyways. Get well soon, j'suppose. Don't sneeze on anyone. . . . Vraiment. Don't."


Karasu starts crying even harder at whatever it was Quintessa said. She tries to choke out words to say back to her, but settles on wrapping her arms around Quintessa's head as she tries to calm down.


Quintessa wraps her arms around the halfling weakly, content with this embrace as her answer.


Karasu whispered to you, "Of course I forgive you, dummy." She has to lift her head up away from the changeling to wipe the snot off her face, which she very discreetly wipes on the back of Magik's shirt. "I'm crying because I just hurt someone I love too."


Magik thinks it's time to leave the two alone. He offers Kasyr a nod, "I'm trying, but thank you." His form is quickly engulfed in his black fire then extinguishes, leaving only his black goo next to the stairs.


Magik disappears with a magical aura surrounding him.


Quintessa begins to quietly sob against Karasu's shoulder, clutching to her. It was a bittersweet mix of happiness and sadness. Quintessa whispered to Karasu, "I'm sorry I never said anything before... Now that Laharl is around I would only complicate things... If you want me to leave you alone, I'll..." the changeling's eyelids finally closed, her consciousness leaving her as the last words escape her mouth, "...understand..."


Kasyr is apt to agree with Magik's sentiment, rising from his feet, and only pausing to faintly tap Karasu on the shoulder, and offer a muted, "Mes apologies." that seems more aimed at the pair before he starts moving towards the door. There's a well of emotion there, but underneath it all, is the distinct sense of disquiet the teachers words had arisen. 'Not Again.'


Kasyr exited to the west.