[h3][color=bedded][b][center] Thomas Richard Harrison [/center][/b][/color][/h3]
[center][indent][color=bedded][i]Location:[/i][/color] Second Story (Not the book kind)
[color=bedded][i]Interacting with:[/i][/color] ??? [/indent][/center]

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[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g6ICYbiLIsg[/youtube]
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One down. Struck dead by the arrow of Atalanta. Or Sana who embodied the legendary figure all the same, all she need now was to skin the dead beast and for Keystone to- Oh dear. What a mess, it seemed Keystone had taken quite a hit. But on the bright side Cyne seemed to be doing okay, or at least the undead hadn't quite risen yet to overwhelm them. That said Nor seemed to finish off the boar he rode on (like a proper dwarf) delivering quite the hair cut. All was well on this floor, and to the victors the spoils of ham and bacon. Holding on a bit of a breather as Thomas relaxed for a moment confirming the area was seemingly secure before remembering their party was split in half. Kyra and Satilla and Ash were still down below them, or at least for all Thomas knew down below, and not teleported magically into another plane from which they could never escape. Keystone would need Satilla's help with that bloody gash. Satilla had Kyra though right? surely they'd be okay. Thomas dreaded the thought of losing Satilla, as their group healer. That and honestly the boy had some fe- 

And that's when the seizure hit.

Just as he turned towards the door to rush downstairs, the synapses fired. Something wrong, a march through the neurons, firing off inappropriately as his coordination failed him. His thoughts relinquished to the dark stars, visible as his visage blanked and eyes rolled back into his brows. His feet buckled, the cortex in disarray, the motions in discord, as if falling to grasp a golden apple from his path. But alas at the very last moment his body shifted, the cerebellar pathways jerking his body back as the vertiginous tumble was reflexively corrected. Caught in a state of near dreaming, unconscious as the magic in his blood overwhelmed him as he thought of earthly ties. His mortal coil displeased his astral brethren, who puppeted him so with their retribution. Acting him the fool as his body was no longer under his own control but theirs. A punishment from above, randomly plucking the tonic-clonic jerks as if Thomas was inebriated. Taken to the left, taking the wall, a spin, and a near levitation as his spine and head seemed to be lifted up into the right before his hands gripped his own hips. All of it culminated here, most shamefully, as the young sorcerer sprung his coiled knees out, thrusting the vacant air like some mad hip-hop artist.

There it ended as Thomas was ejected back into his own body, eyes returning to their normal gaze as a shock of what happened left him still light-headed and woozy. Wizards were weird, and Thomas so far was quite the oddball, at least as far as the party knew him. This wasn't the first time he, had reacted strangely. Falling down at last in the postictal state of his starry-space-seizure, Thomas' muscle stiffed with a paralysis, flooring him as small twitches signaled the reorganization of his circuits. Unable to quite talk or move for a moment.

At least Satilla wasn't witness to this.