[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230112/5eeb9c99103db412cfe65ffbbe9024d6.png[/img][/center][hr] Quinn just about shat himself as the elevator whirred to life. His lips parted in the beginnings of an incantation, only to clamp his mouth shut as Lyra blocked his line of fire, stilling the ripples in the air around him lest he accidentally shoot her instead. Fortunately, no one had to make a move, as the elevator was bound for a higher floor instead. The vampires seemed to have picked up something he didn't, because Count Eve seemed to have pulled information out of thin air otherwise. Any thought of deliberation left his mind in a flood of urgency as Lyra helpfully summed up the prisoners' status. If they had a location and a time limit, there was no point waiting around. He could only hope - in a twisted, ironic way - that the executioner was a sadist that liked to take his time, because a pragmatist would've had them all dead before the rescue party even made it down the stairs. As Count Astorio propped open their way forward along with an offhanded warning, Quinn raced after Caspian. As far as he knew, he had the best chance of debilitating the executioner enough to buy the prisoners time. Lyra might end up frying the mages herself, and Caspian... well, Quinn hoped water mages could do more than give their opponents a bath. As the blond made his way down the stairs, Quinn opted for the more direct route in the interest of saving time: straight down. He vaulted over the railing effortlessly, bypassing the staircase entirely as he simply floated downward like a leaf on the wind. Gravity reasserted itself as his feet delicately found purchase at the bottom of the stairwell, and his clothes once again hung heavy on his frame as he dropped down into a furtive crouch and looked around for something to hide behind. [color=a366ff]"Do we charge in and make a scene or- I think they're running out of time,"[/color] Quinn whispered anxiously. Intellectually, he knew a coordinated sneak attack would probably have the greatest chance of success, but even a moment's hesitation in assembling themselves felt agonizingly long with the knowledge that someone was potentially dying on the other side of that door. [color=a366ff]"I can get the prisoners or... stall reinforcements,"[/color] he offered, slightly more lucid but no more composed. It was about as helpful of a suggestion as he could give, preoccupied as he was. The executioner was honestly secondary; let the vampires have their fun, their mission was a prisoner extraction first and foremost. As idiotic as he thought they were, nobody deserved to be 'fried'. [hr]