[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/qSXKgkY.png[/img]
[sub][@Psyker Landshark][@Estylwen][/sub][/center]
Gunshot behind him. He made the right choice to take initiative and drop first. Another burst open their wings, the third dove into shadow. But the rush for the bridge turned into a pot of crabs, a quagmire that prevented an easy escape.

Otis loved being right.

He didn’t quite love the sensation of his knees grinding into dust as his muscles struggled to endure the duress of having to maintain perfect balance upon the railing as his skateboard grinded down it, but he possessed focus enough to see his decision through, his goggles slapped over his eyes and his teeth bared into a subconscious snarl against the forces of gravity and drag. The descent had perhaps been only a few minutes at most, but it was almost pleasurable when the bottom met the wheels of his skateboard, the axles squeaking as he killed his momentum and finally stood up straight. A fountain plaza. A hastily-drawn sign, pointing in one direction. An army of wooden mannequins, possessing bludgeoning tools.

And, of course, the voice of the woman who started all this.

Otis pulled out his own gun, the light catching the gleaming barrel and the gilded etchings. Without hesitation, he pointed it towards the gloomy-faced shadow-dancer that had joined him at the plaza and pulled the trigger. A flash of light, a crack of thunder, and the closest mannequin to her was sent flying back into two other of its kin, a bullet cratering its chest.

[b]“A truce,”[/b] Otis spoke, his free hand drawing a [i]symbol[/i] in the air. [b]“You’re faster than me on the ground. Go in the direction of the sign, I’ll go opposite. If you find the auditorium, contact me. If I find the auditorium, I’ll contact you.”[/b]

It was arcane magic, strict and regimented, but possessing a utility and reliability that other schools could not. A moment later, the raven-haired girl would feel a sensation very much like ‘knocking’ on the inside of her skull. If she ‘opened’ her mind, Otis’s voice, edged with only a tinge of impatience, would resound.

[b]“Do you agree?”[/b]

A simple thought-sharing spell.

Of course, perhaps he wouldn’t have to do this if he simply trusted that the path of most resistance offered a suitable reward at the end, but, well…the Strigidae had a good headstart. He could indulge in his curiosity and suspicion just a little bit.