[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ZivsXN1.png[/img][/center]
[hr][center][h3]~1442 | PARIS | FASHION SHOW VENUE[/h3][/center][hr]
Panic erupted in an instant, and Edward was immediately in the thick of it.

Compared to the destruction of the lights, the sudden appearance of a guy in a weird costume was basically a non-issue. No one spared a glance at his desperate chant, but the efficacy of it, at least, was proven. Though broken glass slipped through the gaps of the skeletal hand, the interconnected nature of the lights allowed more of them to be hoisted up by the necromancer’s spell than simply the size of the hand itself. The patrons of the place had been saved!

But they were now all streaming towards the exit too, security motioning towards the exits as the well-dressed, well-perfumed attendees of the fashion show made their exits as quickly as possible. And with in the tide of humanity, Edward found himself being swept away, his tangible form pushed and prodded out of the venue alongside everyone else, glass embedding itself in his shoes on the way out.

And as he neared the exit, he saw two things.

The wisp wriggling back up, fresh tendrils bursting out from charged lumps. It had been damaged, greviously so, but it had recovered in the chaos as well, fluctuations of emotion giving it the fuel it needed to continue.

The man on the stage, pulling out a card from the breastpocket of his suit. With a parting of his lips, the card ignited and disappeared, the surest sign of [i]written[/i] magic, before the security team escorted him out through the back of the stage.

…

Pool balls littered the floor, and the dragon, its fleshless feet already lacking traction, slipped upon them as a result. It was effective!
Stabbing a creature made of absolutely zero flesh? Much less effective.

Lucian’s pool cue may have made for a good weapon if he had swung it, but a thrust simply ended up with the stick going through the eye socket and out the back of the dragon’s skull as the spectral monstrosity tripped forwards and slammed its jagged forehead right into the reaper’s chest. Momentum continued, Lucian smashed straight through the drywall. His back and his butt were stuck inside the wall now, but before a finishing blow could be delivered, Vera’s claymore swung true, struck true.

Soundlessly, that ebony blade slid through the dragon’s tail, severing it with a singular stroke.

It roared in response, twisting around like a snake to face its foe, inadvertently wrenching Lucian’s weapon from his grasp. Four limbs coiled up like springs, four sets of claws digging deep into the walls, a pair of wings spread out and aligned like blades.

And with a kick, it launched itself towards Vera, intending on smashing her to bits the same way that it had for Lucian.

In the frenzy and the scramble, however, Celeste’s presence was difficult to track.

Unlike Lucian, she hadn’t been half-buried in a wall.

Unlike Lucian, she was being lead away by a host of skeletal [i]monkeys[/i], glowing with the same unearthly shine as the ghostly dragon.