faderift | OPEN ↠ FALSE GODS, GREAT DEMONS (PART II)

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OPEN ↠ FALSE GODS, GREAT DEMONS (PART II)

WHO: Everyone in the Dark Future
WHAT: Doom and gloom
WHEN: ALTERNATE FUTURE, 25-28 Cloudreach 9:48
WHERE: The Thaigs, Jader, the Frostbacks, and Haven
NOTES: This is the second open log and second plot log, combined, for False Gods, Great Demons.

ORTAN THAIG has been buzzing since the time travelers arrived—with gossip, skepticism, resentment, hope. The Herald traveled through time once before and brought back a blueprint for victory that might have worked if she’d lived. Maybe they can do the same. The now-Tranquil Dorian seems to think so, passing along an amulet and spells to a group of mages. If they can return to Haven, if they can recreate the magic—

Discussions of strategy and timing are underway when reports arrive from Orlais that Tevinter is on the move. Units of mages, corrupted Red Templars, and Tevinter foot soldiers are cutting east toward the passes through the Frostbacks; more are swinging north to cross through Jader without braving the mountains.

A dragon is with them.

There’s one day to wonder what’s happening, to try to plan or prioritize, and then the decision is made for the Inquisition: they have to leave. They have to leave because the passage of the dragon over the Deep Roads brings with it an underground wave of darkspawn, nearly crawling over one another as they swarm over the barricade and toward both the thaigs. Ortan will fall first. Then Orzammar. There is no if. And there are Tevinter troops blocking the main doors.

Get out alive. Get the time travelers out with you. Take one of the narrow tunnels that opens up into the mountains or woods outside of Tevinter's reach. Or stay behind to hold the line.

Elsewhere, in JADER, Tevinter forces march through the city streets on their way south. They have somewhere to be. But they also have to sleep and eat, and the Inquisition has people in the city—spies, traveling scouts, maybe a ship nearby—and this one last chance to cut their numbers. Burn bridges. Burn inns. Slip poison into what glasses you're able. Every man you kill here is a man who won't make it to the mountains. In THE FROSTBACKS there are fewer options, a larger force, and a dragon overhead. But dropping an avalanche on them worked once. It might be worth it to try again. Anything to keep them from reaching HAVEN.

If you’re unlucky, no one will remember that you died a hero. If you’re lucky, this will never have happened at all.

For their dreams had been devoured
By a demon that prowled the Fade
As a wolf hunts a herd of deer.
Taking first the weakest and frailest of hopes,
And when there was nothing left,
Destroying the bright and bold
By subtlety and ambush and cruel arts.
Exaltations 1

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When the survivors from the thaigs reach HAVEN, it's occupied--but not as occupied as it could have been, with Tevinter's forces tangled and delayed in Jader and in the mountains. The village has been repurposed as a research outpost--for the Breach, for the Temple, for the people who disappeared so long ago that perhaps they guessed would reappear here someday. But, in a rare stroke of luck, that's mostly who's there. Researchers. Not soldiers. When the first horn is sounded at the sight of the invading team, those who come stumbling out of houses and the rebuilt Chantry are half unarmed. Of those who are armed, many are mages, with all of the fire and ice and terror that brings, but beating through them (or sneaking around them) to the mountain and up to the Temple of Sacred Ashes isn't an impossible task. Neither is fending them and their inevitable reinforcements off just long enough to complete the spells that Dorian has provided.

Keeping all of the time travelers alive through it may be more difficult, and sacrifices will be necessary, but this is well and truly the last hope. Something worth dying for.
.
[ OOC | Anyone can participate in this log, including time travelers and any future AU characters who would help them make it safely to the Temple and buy them time to cast the spells to return back to the past to save the future. It should be a single thread, so if your character peels off from the main group for more than a tag or two, please make your own top-level comment to RP after that point. This log will be lightly GMed: keep going, fighting your way through Haven and up the path to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and we'll interject with GM comments ~~when you least expect it~~ when we have something important to tell you. ]

"Shit."

The horn blares, bodies come running. It’s not so heavily-defended as it might be, and that's either a blessing or a bad sign, because it means there's still room for something about today to get worse.

Any forward rush will be met with force: They can bull through it, or they might manage a split, attempt to use some of their escort as a diversion to sneak the travelers through. No matter how they choose to move, there’s no time to argue. There’s really no time for much at all.

Wren yanks at the nearest body, shield lifting to brace the two of them against the fist of stone that punches down from one quick-thinking mage above. The impact sends her staggering in a spray of rock.

Cover won’t last long: Sparks are collecting about his fingers for a strike. Maybe someone should take care of that.

There’s a fallen flask to the left, shining with Antivan fire. It’s not apparent who tossed it, but what’s rapidly very clear is that it’s cracked and ready to leak. A grenade that they need rid of — and quickly —

Edited (edits this a third time because i am an idiot who doesn't understand how electricity works lmao) 2017-03-14 19:19 (UTC)

MAGES

Teren isn't used to being manhandled, at least not so egregiously and by someone on her own side, but desperate times, etc. She makes a noise not unlike an angry cat as she's dragged behind Wren's shield and subsequently shielded from the stone fist, then has no time to offer thanks before noticing the flask.
Lightning quick, she ducks from the Templar's side to give the flask a delicate yet well-supported kick that sends it flying away from them, to explode in midair.

The Doctor hated fighting. He was used to using his sonic or his TARDIS, or even his spoon. But not in this place. Much to his chagrin, he was fighting with a sword. Mostly, because he didn't feel sure enough with a bow and arrow in this body yet.

Still one of the advantages of having fought in the Time War was he had a multitude of skills: both offensive and defensive. And it was startling to him how quickly it all came back. And how quickly he was able to adjust to use them in the body he currently has.

Since Teren had taken care of the flask, it was time to focus on the attack from afar. The Doctor saw the sparks collecting about the mages's fingers. While he had no way to know if his shard would do anything in this instance but attract attention, it was all he had. He raised his left hand and focused to aim at the mage's hands.

The shard glowed brighter for a moment, but then nothing happened.

"Well, that's worthless. We have to do this the old fashioned way."

He dug into his pockets. He knew he had a small Swiss Army-type knife around somewhere. When his hand gripped it, he grinned. Perfect. Bless his wife for telling him he should carry a few 'multi-purpose tools' around with him at all times. He had argued that was why he had his sonic and she pointed out that was why he trowel had been soniced.

He aimed at the mage's hand and flung the knife towards it. He shouldn't have, but he did smile a little when he heard the yelp of pain when the tool met it's mark.

He quickly moved back to where Teren and Wren were gathered.

"So what are we supposed to do now?"

Because the instruction of 'get to this place' seemed less than helpful at this juncture.

If Cosima lives through this, she swears she's going to get better about regular cardio.

She has a couple knives, but they're a last resort; her main plan is to run away from anyone trying to kill her and to keep with the group. After all, anyone with any sense can see she's not much of a threat - those who still have enough presence of mind to evaluate targets, at least. Unfortunately, part one has made part two a challenge. She comes dashing up from having fallen behind, bruised and dirty but in one piece.

"Keep moving," she says, off the question she heard. "Yeah?" she adds to the others. "From the description, we still have a way to go and the quicker the better." Less time for the inevitable reinforcements to arrive.

"Aye, she's right," comments Jamie, as he comes running up behind Cosima. He's been trying to keep the way open for the others, but he's not about to let his friends get too far ahead of him. There's an awful lot at stake here, and he's determined to see the group that needs to go back through to the very end - no matter what the cost. And to him that means sticking close and being ready to react when the enemy comes for them.

And not staying in one place for too long, if they can help it. The longer they dally, the greater the chance the forces that are here will be able to put together a more organized fight, which'll make it that much harder to get everyone to the spot they need to go in one piece. His fingers tighten their grip on his sword, and he gestures with his free hand in a direction that's not really all that defined, but is still roughly "forward". It's better than nothing, for now.

"We've keep going and not give them the chance to close in on us. The rest of it we'll figure out as we go. Come on!"

"Keep moving," the Outsider agrees, sword in hand. He's been using his ability to move very, very quickly in a blink of an eye to try and keep those who can't fight safe. It's important that those who came to this future return to a time where they can change it. Whether they can truly make it better remains to be seen, but they will try.

He promised that they would, and it has been- a very, very long time since he has made a promise. For Thranduil and Corvo, he intends to keep it.

"Fight when you must, but remember our goal. Do not focus on this battle only to lose the war, so to speak."

While Hermione had always been reserved in using her magic, now is definitely not the time to continue doing so. Even if it gets a little out of hand, they're far beyond the point of keeping things simple and neat. The best she can hope for right now is to limit the amount of friendly fire she might incur.

It's a little difficult, owing to the fact that the shard in her hand has been throbbing, but she'll take that over having it cut clean off, which she only narrowly avoids more than once as she struggles to cut through the worst of the fighting. Stunners and other defensive spells are taking more out of her than they should, and so she's not going to go on the offense until she absolutely has to.

Seeing the knot of people up ahead, she fears that she might have to do just that until she gets close enough to hear the Outsider's word. "Now is hardly the time for a pep talk," she mentions, catching up and waving them forward even as she presses on. She's not about to get too far ahead, of course, since she knows her limits and so isn't about to lead the charge when she's only slightly more confident in her magic than she is in the bow and arrow at her back.

"A stationary target is an easy one. Keeping going, into the temple."

Wren finds her balance again, throws it forward once more. It’s the wrong moment for gratitude, but a relief to find steady hands and sharp eyes around her. Everyone is managing their part, even if that part is staying alive.

Hermione’s right, Cosima’s right, the Outsider’s right (they’re all right and Maker help her if anyone goes at it over a mutual agreement just now) best to keep moving, to carve a path ahead. This... Donald has their backs, and that’s a true luxury, means they needn't watch their own.

Sharp light and blunt force wherever she cuts first through spellwork, then flesh. Keep moving, keep moving, sure. It really is great advice. Better still if there weren't quite so many people trying to stop them.

Half these men are researchers, soft, untrained — but there are still dangers strewn across this hillside, those Venatori hardened by confidence or combat, and every academic is a shield before them; additional cover and chaos that the Inquisition must wade through.

Perhaps there's another way. Perhaps some of these scholars, they might scare.

"If anyone has something flashy," Ragged, half-shouted over the din of the battle around them. "Do it."

"You —" She points to the nearest of them, "— Eyes on the temple; be ready to tell us how to get in."

Too soon to know whether they've barred the entrance, but if they have, they'll need a way through. They have resources. They must be ready to use them.

"Any sign of reinforcements?"

A muffled curse, and Wren drops as fire blooms sudden and hot above their heads. A wild shot: misaimed. The ends of it catch a framework nearby, soon jump to a blaze that engulfs the wooden structure.

Flashy Wren wants, flashy he can do...sort of, anyway. Jamie hesitates only as long as it takes him to shift his sword, yanking one of the gloves off of his hands and letting the shard he'd gone to such pains to hide become visible once more. There's no point in hiding it now. Either they'll be able to send the group from the past back again and none of this will have happened, or they'll all die trying and it won't matter anyway.

With one smooth motion he lifts his hand, the mark sparking and flaring to life as he aims and shoots at one of the enemy - not aiming for the man himself, but the small flasks he can see dangling from the man's belt. From here he has no idea what they might hold, but if they're lucky they'll have something combustible inside, and with luck the results will be flashy enough that they'd at least give the others pause.

He doesn't have the time to wait and see if it works, though, as the structure that's now on fire sends out a gout of flame that's entirely too close for his liking. The mark flares again in response, this time generating a shield of green light to stand between him and the crackling timber, just in case it gets any bright ideas about falling on his head.

"Think that's a sign they're coming!" he yells back. "Can anyone see what's going on at the temple yet?"

Too flustered to answer The Doctor, Teren instead turns her attention toward the temple, still standing but looking a bit worse for wear. How to get in? She spots a less healthy-looking section of it that stands unguarded, around the back, with a wall cracking and no doubt wood splintering from the damage within.
She races ahead of the group, more quickly than any sentries at the temple door would be able to stop in time, and jams her foot into the weak spot. Praise the Maker, it gives, and she beckons frantically to the others. Make it quick.

The Doctor had fallen behind, battling those who were coming up behind and trying to gain ground.

[ooc: Just stating this in case anyone was waiting for him to post, his tread will continue below for a bit.]

Tiny arms circle Cyril's neck. Sina is crying from exhaustion and fear, having just been woken up to be carried to the tunnels. Once there, she squirms to be let down. She wipes her eyes and stands there shivering, clearly terrified but steeling her resolve to be one of the grown-ups now. If she's a grown-up, she can help, and if she can help, there is less to be afraid about.

"I'm going to help," she says aloud, then reaches up to tug at Cyril's tunic. "I'm going to help," she repeats. "I'm brave now."

Edited 2017-03-14 19:02 (UTC)

Cyril is more terrified than he has ever been before, and it has very little to do with the darkspawn themselves - though they are just as terrible as always. The fear is centered, instead, on the thought that something might happen to Sina. That she could easily be lost in this battle. He has his arms around her body securely and keeps his hold on her. He's thankful that he's an archer because it means he has strength and muscle in his arms. They can hold her as long as he needs them to.

"You can help by holding on," he tells her as they move. He knows she's stubborn - just like her mother - and means that she wants to do more, but his first concern isn't her proving she has the ability to fight. His first concern is getting her somewhere safe.

Iskandar can tell the situation is bad. They have a child with them and they have someone apparently from the past that he knows needs to get back. Their group has vital people in and if they don't get them to safety... He looks back at where he knows the horde is coming then uses the horse he's riding on to make sure that the path behind him has coverage. Already he's looking around at the walls around him, at the path ahead, back at what is to come.

"Hold on tight, little princess. Cyril has a very important duty and we must let him fulfill it with you." He turns his head to her to give her a warm smile. One would never know the concerns he has for this moment.

"Make sure you remind him of how brave he is too. We don't want him to forget," he informs her.

Everything was happening fast. To fast. For the first time in a long time he felt real and true panic, but he kept it clamped down tight inside his chest as he pushed Atlas along with the group, Samouel situated behind him riding pillion. Already he knew there was but one option for them - survive. Samouel was with them, Samouel who fell through time and had to go back. Had to stop all of this from happening.

"Maybe he can be as brave as you," Kirk smiled at Sina, Atlas shifting nervously beneath him and Samouel. He looked to Iskandar, eyes flicking back behind them. "They're gaining," he said, hoping Sina did not have the ears to hear it.

James came riding back through the tunnels towards them on Dauntless - the old warhorse was still as steady and strong as a bronto - and at the horse's heels was Interceptor. He pulled up in front of the group, shifting around so he was slightly in front, "The path ahead is clear ... "

But now he could hear the horde, and he shifted his gaze over to Jim and Iskander, then to Sam, to Sina. Over to Cyril, before he pulled Dauntless to a halt, giving a smile to Sina, "How would you like Cyril to teach you how to ride, little one? You two can ride Dauntless out of here, like all the heroes from those Dalish tales. Alas, he's sorry he's not a halla."

Giving a meaningful look to Cyril, as he slid out of the saddle. "Tight hold, when you go fast."

Running and escaping the Darkspawn brings back a myriad of memories back to Sam, back from when he was younger, but this seems so much worse. He's not sure if it's because they are underground or because literally there are enemies at every door and their escape routes becoming less and less by the minute. As dire as it seems though, Sam is relatively calm, more focused on what they could do now.

Being behind Kirk means he's able to hear quite clearly what he's saying towards Iskandar, to which the mage shifts so that he can look over his shoulder. They couldn't see the Darkspawn, but from the noises of battle and screams, it was obvious that they weren't too far behind if they didn't start moving.

Seeing Norrington come riding down the tunnel brings a little bit of relief, but only a little seeing as the man dismounted. It was a good plan giving Cyril a horse - they needed to get Sina out - but...

"James, what are you going to do?"

"I expect the strategical thing," Waver said, having been dead quiet the entire time up until this point. The smart thing to do was to split up and buy time for whoever wasn't going to stare down the Darkspawn. There was also approximately no bullshitting around the reality of what that meant for whoever decided to be merchants for time.

"Which I believe boils down to splitting the group. Am I incorrect here?"

Sina sees what's happening, hears the conversation, and begins to cry. Splitting the group is bad. Splitting the group means some people might not come back. Her arms, tight around Cyril's neck, unwind so her hands can reach for Norrington.

"Uncle Jamie," she cries, because she understands what it means for him to give his horse away. It means he'll be in the group that splits away.

Cyril already knew he would very likely never see some of these people again once this was over. He wished he had time to tell them all how much they meant to him. He glace James a little nod that he hoped communicated some of it as he came closer to get on the horse.

"Sam needs to make it out of this too," he pointed out. There was a general understanding that at least one of the group who had been tossed into the future needed to make it out, to find a way back and warn them. There was also an incredibly selfish part of Cyril that didn't want to risk losing Sam again.

Cyril focuses more on trying to soothe Sina once she starts to cry though. He strokes her hair a bit. "It's all right da'len, let's focus on the ride." He needs a bit of help to get up on the horse while still holding her, but he assumes that he can rely on James for that.

"Divide and conquer is the way the saying goes, I think."

Riding over to Sina he gave her a warm smile then pulled off his cloak to wrap it around her and Cyril. Just a little bit of extra protect in this chaotic madness they now had to face. It would likely be the last thing he could do for them but he knew he could do this much.

"I will hold the back as well."

Kirk was no fool. He knew what Iskandar meant to do, because it was something he would have done as well if Iskandar wasn't stealing his thunder. He grit his teeth, hands tight on the reins, wanting to rail and scream at the other - but knowing it would change nothing. Iskandar cared to much, and if he looked at things practically they needed someone to buy time. Iskandar had the greatest chance of success, given his abilities.

But god it hurt. It hurt so much. And despite himself tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He turned Atlas and came alongside Iskandar, reaching out for him, to nuzzle his ear one last time, to kiss him, but refusing to say goodbye. A small mercy, if only for himself.

"Catch up to us, when it's over."

He knew he wouldn't. Most likely not. But still, a fraction of hope to spur them on, to see them those last miles.

[Just right before the last stand.]

"Today we stand up to our greatest challenge yet."

The number of people standing in front of him were smaller than what he was used to - a good number of his team had perished while they were fleeing Orzammar. In any other time Bruce would have been more concerned about it, but now this was no longer the time to think. Now was the time to act, and if they wanted any chance to get out of this somehow they could not afford to waste this one last opportunity presented to them.

"Many of us will not make it through this. Most likely, all of us will fall. We are greatly outnumbered and greatly outmatched, and our enemies are desperate to stop us. But it is in that fact where we have the advantage."

He stares at the eyes of each of the people of his team. His fierce, dedicated team who had never stopped trying, had always kept fighting, had stuck around until now. Bruce was no longer the sort to be sentimental, but he could feel something that could be called pride. No matter what happened, this was to be their last day - perhaps the last day of what remained of the Inquisition. If they succeeded, this present might be entirely non-existent; if they failed...

No use thinking about that. They had to succeed. They needed to.

"Our enemies will keep their focus on the time travelers. We will use it to our advantage and take them out while they're distracted. Our objective is to slow them as much as possible while clearing a path to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Do not hold back. Let them know that the Inquisition is still alive, and we will not go down without a fight."

He pauses, takes in a breath. He's never been good with speeches and things like these, but if this was to be the last time--then he wants to send them all off properly. Like the fighters and soldiers they had all become.

"Team--move out."

The group scatters, heading off to their respective places. Bruce watches them for a few moments before he finally turns his gaze away from them and to Kaisa, who had been standing beside him. "We should get ready too."

Kaisa is unusually solemn as Bruce speaks, arms crossed, eyes closed. But it's clear that she's listening intently, and once he gives the orders to move, she opens her eyes to look over the group. Right now, solemn faces are all anyone has to offer, with the only other option seeming to be despair.

She nods at Bruce's words, but doesn't speak quite yet. The air is thick with tension, sounds of the first skirmishes distant in the background. But there's a sliver of peace to be found, and she knows it'll be her last.

"Sometimes, I feel like I spent my entire life trying to die." She's still not looking at Bruce yet, eyes focused off in the distance. "It's not like I don't like being alive, but--I wanted a death that'd make sure that life meant something. I mean--" Words are something that usually comes easy to her (perhaps too easy, some might claim). But these words are different. They're gross and emotional and weak, and they're words that show vulnerability in that endless bravado. But--what's the harm. Might as well get it out at some point, and she's running out of points, here.

"--In the end, what am I? Some obnoxious, half-breed accident. An unwanted burden. But I told myself, well, here I am. Can't fix being born. But I sure as fuck can make sure that this life, accidental and unwanted or not, can have been for the best. That the world is a better place for having me in it. So, I've spent my entire life fighting like I had a death wish. Because, I mean..."

And now she does look at Bruce, a small, humorless smirk on her face. "...What does it matter if I die? As long as I made sure that life counted for something."

There's a pause, and Kaisa just shakes her head, giving a quiet laugh. "Man, listen to this angsty ass bullshit. I'm sorry if you were hoping for me to be all cheerful and enthusiastic and pumped up about this. If you want, we can just pretend that I spouted off some optimistic crap and it was incredibly moving."

Surprisingly (at least, in these times, and considering his present track record with so many other people), Bruce waits, giving Kaisa whatever time she needs and stays silent when she does finally speak. He doesn't say anything to cut her off while she speaks, doesn't speak show any signs of agreement or disagreement - doesn't respond beyond blinking and looking at her, his gaze unflinching.

It's only after she's done speaking, when she tries to brush off everything she just said does Bruce finally actually speak. "Dae--Kaisa," he corrects himself there. No more reason for formalities at this point in time. Not when perhaps soon, none of this will matter any more.

Nothing here will matter soon enough.

He waits for her to respond to his call before he continues to speak. "I know I'm not the best person for this, but trust me when I say that your life matters. You matter." If she didn't then she wouldn't be here right now, doing something not many other people would, or even could. And that mattered.

Contrary to the advice that was given earlier, the Doctor fell behind the group to fight off those who were coming up behind them. That was just how he operated. Make sure everyone else is saved, no matter what happened to him. The problem was, he got so distracted with the fight, that he had actually gone around a bit of a bend and couldn't quite see the rest of the group.

Not that it mattered, he was moving and holding his own quite well. That was what mattered. He thought he was giving the others as much time as he could. He was pretty quick on his feet, he would be able to catch up.

That had been his plan, anyway. What he hadn't really noticed was that when he came back around the bend, it was an area that was a bit more open to the archers from above. He didn't really use a shield, not that a shield would have helped anyway, his back was to the small cliff and the archer was right on point.

The arrow pierced through the Doctor's shoulder blade and he screamed in agony for a moment before looking at his shoulder to see the arrowhead sticking out about six inches from his coat. He swallowed back the pain. Passing out was not an option. He had no choice now, he had to make his way back to the group. When he saw one or two of them he came up and spoke almost as if nothing was wrong.

"I think we need to move faster, they're about to catch us up."

With that, he started to sway, then he passed out, and his body started to fall to the ground.

In some ways it was odd seeing the Doctor using a weapon - or, at least, something that Jamie tended to think of as a weapon. He was far more used to the Doctor turning down any gun or sword or similar object that was handed to him. But it'd soon become evident that the Doctor could handle himself just fine when he needed to, so when the Doctor fell back he didn't even protest. It gave him the chance stay closer to the front, making sure that anyone that broke through didn't get close to their small group. While Hermione had her magic and Cosima had her knives, they still needed someone who could fight, and he wasn't too worried about the Doctor being behind them.

At least, not until the Doctor came staggering up to them with an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. As he started to fall, Jamie ran towards him, hoping to get there in time to catch him - or at least break his fall.

"Doctor!"

Post-Time War. Even in this body, it wasn't the first time the Doctor used a weapon. He preferred the sword, if only because it was easier to use it in an offensive, rather than defensive manner. Using the gun to shoot the General on Gallifrey still haunted him, even if he had been nonchalant about it with.... Someone... Probably Clara.

Jamie did break his fall. Sort of. The Doctor weighs a bit more than his lanky frame would make you think. At least it was enough that the arrow didn't get juggled around too much. But the Doctor was out cold. Well, to everyone else. He could sort of hear what was going on around him, but he had a preference to enter a healing coma, even if a part of him knew this was not the time or place for such a thing.

He tried to wake himself up. But the pain... he just needed a minute.

All things considered, Hermione's primary concern is making sure that everyone that needs to go back in time manages to do just that. If one of them were left behind, it meant that either this future really would continue to exist despite whatever actions they take, or that the person might cease to exist along with this potential future outcome. Really, she's had enough of arguing the logistics of time travel recently, so she'll be happy when she can finally bring herself to stop thinking about it.

Unfortunately, even now that time seems to be a long way off, given the chaos all around them. This is one of the larger battles she's fought in in Thedas, and it doesn't take long before her constant magic use begins to wear on her. Rather than risk exhausting herself before she can see this through, she alternates between magic and her bow, and that's part of why she looks momentarily confused when the Doctor staggers towards them, and arrow protruding from his shoulder.

"Doctor!" The confusion gives way to horror when he starts to fall, and though Jamie moves towards him, she instinctively casts a Levitation Charm his way, trying to make sure he doesn't end up falling on his injury and worsening it. She'll only keep it up long enough to keep him from falling flat on the ground until Jamie can make it to him, especially since she needs to focus on the fight around them.

Using a Stunner on an opportunist who'd tried to break through once Jamie had moved to the Doctor, she calls, "Is he breathing? Jamie, is he-...?"

"Oh god damnit," Cosima says, frightened and angry and so, so trying not to think that literally any of her sisters would be more useful in this current moment than she is.

Not helping, she tells herself. Focus.

Instead, she's already moving to the Doctor's side look at the wound. She's not a small-d doctor herself, exactly (and even if she were she knows fuckall about Time Lord biology beyond what he's told her), but she's just going to assume arrows do the same thing to Time Lord tissue as to other organisms.

"I don't know where all his organs are," she says, "but in a human, they'd have missed anything you can't live without." She looks at Jamie, unsure, but says, "I'd normally say we shouldn't try to take it out while we don't have anything to clean and dress the wound yet, and while we're still under fire, but you probably know more about arrows than me, to be honest."

Whatever they were going to do, though, had to be fast.

Another arrow nocked in her bow, Hermione keeps an eye out for surrounding threats as she carefully backs up towards Jamie, Cosima, and the Doctor. They're not in the thick of it, but they also aren't exactly in the clear either, and she doesn't like the fact that she's the only one in their immediate group with a weapon at the ready.

"If you do take the arrow out," she tells them quickly, eyes sharp as she keeps a lookout for immediate dangers, "I can use an Aguamenti Spell to clean off the wound, but that won't stop the bleeding." Sparing a quick glance down towards the Doctor before looking back up, she adds, "It might be safest to cut the arrow to minimize any chance of it catching to something and worsening the wound, then carrying him off to somewhere more sheltered so we can better assess it. Preferably without anyone trying to kill us as we debate removing it."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

OPEN ↠ FALSE GODS, GREAT DEMONS (PART II)

THE LAST STAND

if anyone in this thread wants to start it earlier on/this needs editing for ya just lmk ❤

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Escaping the Thaig | Closed

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with massive apologies for being late

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lol so late

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BRUCE & KAISA ☇ one last time.

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The Doctor goes down (Closed to those who know who they are, if you want in please PM)

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For whenever

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