[center][img]http://orig15.deviantart.net/8970/f/2017/017/5/f/desmond_by_fenixking13-davq9d3.png[/img][/center]


Desmond was very clearly in the room. His presence was known, could be felt and seen, but the man simply wasn't there. A lingering outline of his body existed in the barest fraction of reality, a tether to the now. The now Desmond was experiencing was beyond his comprehension. Lines were distorted to unrecognizable smears in his vision yet he could feel the magic pulsating to the steady beat of a heart. Every person in the room had their own magic, their own mind and ideals, and all of it was laid bare in front of him. The problem was understanding it.
Nothing about what he was seeing made any sense in any way but it demanded his attention. Had he possessed lungs, Desmond believed he might have begun to hyperventilate. 

Instead all he felt was sand shifting in the air... The magic was heavy, slow to respond, yet it began to flow to his slow but insistent will.

[i]Can the others feel this?
Do they know what is happening?
Do I know what is happening...
Of course not.. Gavin has told us to find the tablets.. The government hunts us.. They object to it even slightly, yet we have traveled so far to be here..
[/i]

The return to 'then' from where he had been was instantaneous and disorientating. The moment the magic of someone else he had been taking touched his own 'body' it had forced him away from the strange other world Desmond had been experiencing. Something akin to a gasp escaped his 'mouth' but it sounded more like he was choking, indeed he looked the part as his gloved hands raced up to touch his chest, where his lungs would be, but merely caused his form to waver ever so slightly. 

It was becoming too much for him. A room with such varied magic seemed to be pulling at his own essence even as it tried to siphon of the others. At last he spoke. 
It was a soft hum, more vibration than word, but it echoed in the air and in the minds of those gathered. Like a dozen voices speaking at once in a flood it came to them.

[color=662d91]"The sooner we leave, the better, if there is a prize on our heads." [/color]

[@Letter Bee]