[h3][color=bedded][b][center] Thomas Richard Harrison [/center][/b][/color][/h3]
[center][indent][color=bedded][i]Location:[/i][/color] Floor 3, Tower of the Big Baddie.
[color=bedded][i]Interacting with:[/i][/color] Everyone within 5 foot radius of Thomas: (FA, FB, FDW, TZ, CLB & Keystone & Nor) [/indent][/center]


Thinking back, this probably was not one of the brightest ideas out Thomas had. Of course he had plenty of pretty bad ideas in the past, but most of the time the universe worked its way to keep him mostly safe, that or Master Wolfgang came in to clean up the mess. Such were the benefits of being a sorcerer's apprentice, however right now Thomas was on his own. Proving his worth not to the old master who he had thought would scry him and see his growth, but perhaps more to himself. Did he not take down a few enemies with his magics? Did he not demonstrate a good control of his spells? He was a decent spellslinger now, more than capable of making it mostly on his own to boldly go in with whatever gambit he had and hoped for the best. Although, maybe it was the slightly concerning bloodloss that made Thomas woozy, or perhaps the fact that he had reached his critical phase break, but Thomas seemed to be a bit paler than usual. His complexion drained of the light wheat into a more candle wax white, this probably wasn't the best indication of Thomas' immediate health at first glance, the color in the boy fading away rapidly as the fiercely feeding frenzied furry fiendish ferret drowned in a pool of blood it had to swallow or whatever it was doing to avoid being bloated by the latent space powers. The boy was losing consciousness fast, all it would take was about a liter of bloodloss more or less to make someone feel rather faint as Thomas was. His knees seemed to be shaking growing feeble as the struggle to remain useful to the team burned on.

[color=bedded]"Flare..."[/color] Thomas weakly uttered. The command word was invoked. The prepared spell surged through at last, engulfing the pallid magician in a swathe of fire. A pyre burst out of his body, as if he spontaneously combusted into a burning wicker man. The flames danced their way around, solar spots as they erupted in their lashing tongues singing the praises of the sun. The light of the radiant sun itself cloaking Thomas in the fateful fire. His teammates had their warning, as much as Thomas could say despite the dreadful feeling of exsanguination. His shift to Moon Phase was also not helping his constitution loss as by the end of it he would lose another point of constitution which he desperately needed to stay afloat. If this spell didn't purge the weasel off then, Thomas was pretty much doomed wasn't he? Nevertheless he had committed to this terrible plan and how it was time he reaped the benefits.

With a pulse of an exploding nova, the harbinger of scorching death, a wave of fiery destruction emerged from the sorcerer-en-flambe. The dispersion of cosmic power a single blast of far-realm flames radiating through an expanding circle of forced inferno. Everything with a five foot radius of Thomas' location would find themselves facing the power of the sun, all the while Thomas felt the chill in the air grip him, shaking as his knees and teeth chattered. The soft gasps that escaped, his joints flexing in as his muscles tried to shiver for the warmth which left him. And even though the pallor of Moon Phase ought to disappear as Thomas moved on to Star Phase, still the bloodloss was far too much to compensate, and the cold and distant personality which dominate Thomas now was truly cold and growing distant...

Space Wizard Needs Food Badly.