[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/bKnH0lu.png[/img][/center] [hr][center][h3]~1440 | PARIS | FASHION SHOW VENUE[/h3][/center][hr] Seeing the fire rushing towards her, Vera mercifully heard little of Edward's screeching over the roar of flames as they rolled towards her and the invading wisp. There was no time to swear again. No time to rail against fate or the pink haired girl woman for sending her into the fire. No time to help the wizard. No time to find cheese boy. She didn't bother gasping for air. The fire would soon steal any oxygen. Besides, what need had the already dead for breathing? Moving unhesitatingly, faster than the nervous system of a still living mortal could ever hope to fire, Vera's right hand dove into the pocket of her suit jacket, retrieving a small piece of paper. Long swirling letters in a fine black ink, formed a great vine of monochromatic flowers. The product of a bored mind and too much time spend listening to another of Sigrun’s classically long briefing. Vera had found it deeply confusing when Sigrun spent minutes explaining that unnamed Reapers had been banned form Paris and the importance of following the "Standard Operating Procedures"...Reapers were professionals, were they not? Surely such things were obvious. Wasting no time on regulatory thoughts, Vera summoned power from the arcane reservoir that resided within her. She felt a familiar warmth as magic leapt from her fingertips to the piece of paper. Globus invulnerabilitatis the swirling script read. Globe of Invulnerability. A shield. A way to buy time. Enough time she hoped. She didn't need much. Just a moment. Unwaiting, Vera reached for the gem chained to her arm. She needed her sword. She needed her sword for dragon hunting.