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Chad grew practically giddy as his strike connected and smoothly transitioned into a follow-up attack, even as the mage coalesced his final, desperate spell. Unfortunately, he was off by mere milliseconds; the drawn electricity from the room exploded before the vampire could deliver his [i]coup de grace[/i], and he was sent staggering backward in barely-contained spasms. The vampire flailed an uncoordinated arm forward in hopes he'd connect with something, but caught only air - the inquisitor had fled. 

It wasn't a surprise, in retrospect. Mages were such fragile things, and his best efforts would only damn him to a death by a thousand cuts at this rate, even if he avoided every decisive blow Chad threw at him. But it was annoying, and the Astorio had received his fill of annoyances for the day. The speech was simply the icing on the pie - or whatever mortals put icing on - did he honestly expect a [i]mage[/i] of all things to be an ideal hostage? Quentin Santorini was as irrelevant as they came, even in this ragtag band of nobodies, and Chad had already written him off the moment he found himself trapped outside anyway. Daughter Dearest's death would earn the vampire an earful, the prisoner was quite literally the entire reason they came, and he found Casper marginally useful, but the little purple boy? Eh.

[color=00cc66]"Kill the little bastard, see if I care. I don't even know his name,"[/color] Chadwick called nonchalantly, [color=00cc66]"But I know a cornered rat when I see one and you only have until his body hits the ground to run away from me."[/color]

Ah, that must've been it. The inquisitor was stalling for his reinforcements so he could make a run for it while they chopped down his underlings. He hoped Dionne's brat didn't have a martyr complex in her, because this idiot really had no leverage. If they weren't already outnumbered - or at least they would be as soon as the elevator opened - he'd have speared through the both of them like he should've done with the other prisoner. 

[color=00cc66]"You have until I lose my patience to rescue the other mage,"[/color] Chad grumbled under his breath, mostly to Caspian since Donovan likely cared as much as he did and the other mages probably lacked the hearing necessary to make out his words at a distance anyway. In the meantime, he counted his paces. Each stride was mentally measured to account for where his feet would have to contact with the floor once he decided to cross the room and rip out the inquisitor's throat. After all, corpses fell quite fast and Chadwick had given himself a deadline; it wouldn't do to step on a metal strip and lose precious seconds should the inquisitor bring his magic to bear again.

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The barest hint of a morbid smile graced Quinn's lips as his plan worked to perfection and the woman found herself inadvertently demoted in the inquisitor's graces from lackey to victim. He didn't dwell on the implications of her death, just that he'd succeeded. Measured breaths. One step at a time. Light work.

Caspian's request was likewise simple. It hardly seemed the time to be floating around with all the electricity arcing about, especially given how hesitantly he'd reacted to Quinn's earlier weight-lessening spell, but he'd have to trust that the other mage wouldn't immediately dive into a lightning bolt. The boy gave an upward flick of his fingers and rejected the planet's claim on Caspian completely. He'd intended to keep an eye on the blond to catch him should he immediately blunder into harm's way, but a ding from behind him demanded his attention more promptly.

His cue came sooner than he would've liked, but he expected it nevertheless, as the elevator began its descent. If Quinn couldn't lift the entire car - definitely the simplest solution but not one he wanted to gamble on, especially if he had to hold Caspian up while doing so - he'd have to strike as soon as the doors opened to catch them by surprise. A position on the ceiling would afford him both an ideal line of sight and an additional safeguard against the elevator's occupants spotting him too early, but before he could launch himself up to his perch, the sizzle of the room behind him died down and was replaced with a pressure on his neck and the hiss of a readied spell in his ear.

Somehow, he wasn't dead. That was good. The inquisitor's rambling went mostly unprocessed, as a million other things bounced around in Quinn's brain overtop of the words. It would be simple to kill the inquisitor from this position, but doing so without also dying in the process was far less feasible, if not impossible. A suicide for the greater good was certainly romantic, but Quinn felt it should be left as just that - an act of fictional romance. 

Apparently he'd been left alive strategically, as the inquisitor's closing remarks reached his ear. Hostage trade. But he wasn't a good hostage. They'd used him as they needed to levitate the prisoner out and they could dispose of him with his purpose fulfilled. He was new, forgettable- wait, no, they'd staged this rescue over unimportant prisoners, surely they wouldn't throw him to the adders so quickly.

[color=00cc66]"Kill the little bastard, see if I care."[/color]

Astorio. Right.

He was going to die.

Well, two could play at that game; Quinn had no loyalty to the rebellion either. He drew his spell back from Caspian immediately, lest he goad the man into thinking he'd attempted some kind of escape. It was already all he could do not to squirm in place; thankfully the overwhelming amount of tension in his frame kept all his muscles locked firmly in place. The man was obviously waiting for him to try and fling himself or his captor away, and as fast as he could be, he didn't think he could outrun a lightning bolt.

[color=a366ff]"So if I pull her over here, I get to walk?"[/color] He finally asked coldly. The man's word meant nothing, but he could at least indulge the game enough to buy time for a more thought out escape.

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