(Untitled)

[rowan_gods]

Above the ground, in the center of the city of Jhelbor, in a room that John has long since vacated, a twisted piece of shimmering metal and glass seems to shrink down down down until it's nothing more than a pinprick, and then the air around it explodes, and the ripples of that much magic being unmade travel out in all directions.

It's too much. Too

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[rowantree_npcs]

Nestra exhaled, felt the power recede, pull away from her, trailing fire along her skin. "Beautiful," she whispered, looking up into the lush green canopy of the massive tree before her. They'd done it. Finally, after all the fighting and fleeing and praying for a miracle, they were safe.

Then there came a flash of light, so bright it left spots racing across her field of vision, and suddenly something was very not right. People. People who did not belong, dark and pain and a basic wrongness surrounding them, cloaking them, saturating their auras. Her knees felt weak, her tongue felt dry, and she reached out a hand to Beren to steady herself. "What have we done?"

[rowantree_npcs]

He held Nestra when she staggered, his mind still streaming with the symbols of sorcery-language in all the complexity needed to seal the gate. It took him a few seconds to process normal words again. When he understood her question, he shook his head.

"We did what we meant to do. Whatever else is happening, the spell worked. I'd be beyond dead if it hadn't."

[rowantree_npcs]

He was right, of course. Nestra looked around them, at the other gate Guardians ranged in the distance. They would all be dead if he had not succeeded. "Then what has happened?"

[rowantree_npcs]

"I have no idea." It was true, too. He'd been completely occupied with the sealing spell, and that had absolutely worked. Whatever else happened at the end had been - well, it seemed premature to just declare it 'unrelated', but. It wasn't to do with the spell, so he was stumped.

"I guess we'd better go ask them what it looks like from their end and see what we can piece together, yeah?"

[weedyshyguy]

Bret didn't know what was happening. One second he was at Gob's speech and then everything was moving and changing and not right at all and it was making his head pound in the worst possible way. He might've been moving, maybe, and then he was sprawled out on the ground by the tree.

Man, he was getting tired of this.

Despite the fact that he seemed to be experiencing the worst hangover he'd ever had, his instinct told him he should get his bearings just to be safe. He was by the tree, so he didn't go too far. He was just out on the island.

Except there was no island.

And no city.

"Oh God," Bret moaned, laying back and rubbing at his eyes. This stuff had to stop happening.

[cedricinshadows]

Cedric had the odd thought, as he attempted to stumble to his feet, that it was a good thing he'd been on his way to dinner and not on his way from it. He didn't enjoy being covered in vomit. Of course, then his foot caught on a protruding tree root and someone making their landing crashed into him and that combined with the vertigo sent him tumbling to the ground where a very unforgiving rock had already decided that this wasn't his lucky day. From that point on the only thoughts in his head revolved around how much pain he was in, and a very fervent hope that the snapping sound had been something he'd landed on and not what he'd landed on it with.

[gabrielchambers]

Gabriel was not particularly disturbed by his journey. It made him want to vomit, sure, but life kind of did these days, and there was nothing left in his stomach to expel. Aside from the physical discomfort, well, it was crazy time, and crazy time could change as it see fit. Including dumping him into some kind of very confused outdoor gathering.

And then there was blood, and all thoughts of crazy time and alcohol and dead friends promptly fled Gabriel's mind. He was a doctor and he had a duty and that was the only thing that was important. "Move, move, move," he snapped at the people around him, and was at Cedric's side in seconds.

[cedricinshadows]

Cedric groaned and tried to stop the pounding in his head, but the sound coming from his own throat only made it hurt worse. He could smell blood. He knew the scent after so many years on the Quidditch pitch - more bloody noses and split lips and bludgers to the eye socket than he could count, for him and his teammates. It was a heavy, cloying, faintly knut-like smell.

Opening his eyes and looking around did nothing to stop the pain, but it did bring a balm of a different kind. "Robbie," Cedric whispered, obvious relief in his voice. His friend would take care of him. He'd been training to be a doctor. He would know what to do, and he wouldn't think worse of Cedric for not being stronger, because he probably knew just how bad this all hurt. "Something's wrong."

Apparently having nothing in his stomache didn't make much difference to his brain. A fresh wave of nausea swept through him, and he barely managed to turn his head to the side before he gave in and was sick all over the grass.

[gabrielchambers]

Gabriel wasn't bothered by the vomit or the mistaken identity-- He was no stranger to either. "Keep your head in that position," he instructed. The gash was more clearly visible, and he wouldn't choke should he be sick again. Clearly a winner. "You'll need stitches," he informed him. "Should be fine." The likely concussion was problematic, but the head wound would be fine. Gabriel was choosing to focus on the good things

[ebony_musician]

Touya rolled onto his stomach to recover from where he'd landed literally on his tail and pushed himself gingerly into a sitting position. He felt a little unsteady, but then he had been sleeping after having eaten. His stomach heaved a little and for a second he was sure he was going to be sick. Thankfully it passed.

A snapping sound caught his attention and his drooping ears perked as his head snapped up. He was by the tree. But that was the only thing he saw that looked familiar and there was only one scent he knew. This was very bad.

[minthemagician]

Min had been standing close to Bret in the small crowd in the city center. Her shoulder had been brushed against his upper arm. Then suddenly the world had reeled and she'd grabbed onto him and held her head with the other hand, fearing the worst. No, no, NO. The magic was supposed to be normal by now, but this was worse than any sort of feedback she'd gotten before...

Then everything resolved, and her head was still throbbing, but she was alive. She cursed and opened her eyes, looking over at Bret whom she was still clinging to.

She looked around.

"...What?" she gasped. It was almost painful to speak. "What was that? What happened?"

[maybeunorthadox]

Grace had, for shit and giggles, made her way to Gob's speech with the intention of throwing a stick or two throughout his performance. Instead the world tipped along with what little she had in her stomach, everything tight and throbbing and incredibly unpleasant, and when everything wasn't in a constant state of disequilibrium she took a quick, sharp breath and shoved her hand onto the closest material object.

"Brittany? Where the fuck did you come from?" Or, perhaps a more pertinent question, where the fuck where they? Grace wiped the back of her hand over her mouth and turned to Min. "And who are you?"

And there was vomit on her shoes. Outstanding. With an exasperated sigh, Grace shakily wiped her feet over the ground and crossed her arms over her chest.

[weedyshyguy]

Bret had gotten to a point where the world wasn't spinning quite as violently and he was able to sit up without falling back down again. It hurt to open his eyes, but he recognized Min's voice and Grace's voice and registered that something was attached to his shoulder. Alright, so at least he knew some people.

Shit, Jemaine.

Ignoring the pain the bright light caused and the dizziness he felt as he looked around, he frantically searched the area. Oh no oh no oh no. "Je--" Bret winced, his own voice too loud, "Jemaine. Where's-- Grace, where's Jemaine?" He grabbed at the thing that was holding onto him, only vaguely realizing it was Grace's hand. And there was something on his chest too, another hand, which he also removed as he then, unsuccessfully, attempted to stand.

"Why does stuff like this keep happening?" He whined, holding his arm out insistently and still searching the area until Grace (probably begrudgingly) obliged and helped him up.

[minthemagician]

"What happened?" Min let Bret go and adjusted herself into a sitting position. She wasn't in the standing-up sort of mood just yet.

She also wasn't in the introducing-herself mood, especially if it was to someone who had asked like it was an interrogation. Luckily, or not, Min had the pain excuse. "Oof," she said, putting a hand to her forehead again and squinting at the surroundings.