[@AThousandCurses][@Sifr][@Psyker Landshark]

[b][h3]BRIDGE[/h3][/b]

The curves of the frilly half-elf's mouth extended almost unnaturally upward as she laid eyes upon Iraleth's crashing entrance. Perhaps the idea of heroism amused her, or perhaps simply seeing a shoe-in for early arrival sacrifice their advantage so easily was what caused a sadistic glint to shine in her eye. "I must say it's rather embarrassing to make such demands of a girl you just met. We're all just having fun, after all. No manners were taught to you, in the hole you crawled out of to learn the common tongue?"

With a chortle and an exaggerated movement to cover her mouth with the back of her hand as she giggled, eyes firmly planted on the righteous warrior before her with nothing but condescension and disdain, it was in that moment that a wrench - or more accurately, a dagger - was thrown into her plans. In her moment of revelry, attention was diverted away from the crowd she had been so gleefully keeping at bay behind her.

[i]Thunk.[/i]

All at once, the sound of squealing, satisfied laughter was replaced by pained wails. For those in the vicinity to witness, they would see the girl that was seen as an immovable wall mere moments ago crumple against the right side railing of the bridge - a fresh wound oozing out of her back, staining her orchid dress a morbid crimson. The strangest thing would be the disappearance of the very dagger that was expertly embedded into her spine. Only Chunji would have seen it in full: his strike landing true, but his projectile seeming to disintegrate into dust almost as quickly as it made contact with the girl's flesh. In the end, blood was drawn, but the wound did not reach bone.

The half-elf would turn back towards the crowd that had its morale boosted by the staggering hit, slowly advancing once more. One girl in the crowd in particular, walking with a limp and a cane, would give Chunji a thumbs-up, having seemingly witnessed the boy's attack. "Good one, kid. Send a few more like that her way and we'll all be sittin' pretty before we know it, yeah? Or maybe the vultures who smell blood'll hone in on her first," she would muse with an amused shrug, before stopping mid-step and pausing with a finger tapping against her chin, eyes skyward. "Hmmm... on second thought, vultures don't smell blood, yeah? Not like that at least. Sharks're what I was thinkin' of. Eh, I'll workshop that one."

Before the crowd behind the frilly prune-maker or the wrathful knight in front of her could move to fully capitalize on the injury, however, a potent gust of wind arose and knocked the unsuspecting off their feet. At the center of this gust, near the distraught frill-elf, appearing as if out of nowhere, was a boy in the trendy Shaktan attire known as the "t-shirt and jeans" combo. Levitating above him was the upper half of some kind of phantasmal giant clad in golden armor, with four arms each bearing circular shields the size of a human torso. With a sigh, the boy scanned the area while the giant seemed to fend off and block haphazard attacks sent towards either the boy or the injured half-elf. "Gods' sake, Chloe. We can't be putting ourselves this far into the spotlight, let's tone it down."

"Easy for you to say! Look at what they did to me," she would complain with a groaning response, pointing at her bleeding back and slightly torn dress. "They'll all pay! That knife thrower, wherever they are, and..."

She would point at the towering knight ahead with a vengeful glare replacing her previous amusement. "You. This all started because you distracted me with your righteous nonsense! How [i]dare[/i] you!" She would stumble away from the railing and begin stomping her way towards Iraleth, enraged. If she got within range of the knight, she would immediately attempt to clamp a hand down onto her in any way that she could.

With his hands in his pockets and a slouch in his posture, the boy at her side would direct his attention towards the crowd still being fended off by his seemingly autonomous ghostly golden torso - not wounding anyone, but simply repelling advances and blocking attacks. The boy would sigh as his eyes met the crowd, looking towards Chunji and pointing a half-hearted finger his way. "Guess it's us then. Maybe it was a good idea to wait and let my idiot friend steal the show for a while after all. You 'n I, knife thrower." He would take a crouched stance with his fists extended outward, as if a martial artist squaring up with his opponent for a duel in the ring. All the while, his golden guardian would be on watch for any unexpected attacks from the crowd.

[hr]

[@ERode]

[b][h3]PLAZA[/h3][/b]

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhh!"

After the conversation with Ciara had reached its conclusion one way or another, the loudest thing that Otis would hear in his immediate vicinity was the terrified screams from above. Were he to draw his gaze to the source of the noise, he'd see the spiraling, tumbling, descending figure of a boy with winged boots. Like a bird with only one wing, he fell in a never-ending spiral until he crashed with a cratering impact into the fountain of the plaza, splashing the fountain's contents everywhere and destroying a chunk of the marble statue at its base. He would see the boy, seconds later, crawling his way out of the wreck, covered in rubble and soaked like a wet dog. He'd desperately scramble to his feet and begin rummaging through his messenger bag as if he didn't fall from the sky moments prior, eventually fishing out a glass bottle with a satisfied smile. This smile turned to a frown quickly, however, on account of its broken state, a thick red liquid dripping from broken shards. "Nooooo," he'd whine, throwing the useless upper half of the bottle off into the distance, tears of defeat slowly emerging from his eyes. "Why do they need to seal potions in [i]glass[/i] bottles, seriously?! What's the world's economy coming to, for real?!"

He'd soon glance towards Otis after observing his surroundings, and sprint over to him with his hands above his head to signal he wasn't possessed of malicious intent. "Heeeeey! I don't know anyone here, let's be friends!" He would shout this while, of course, remaining ignorant of the new wave of kitchen mannequins running out of the open doorways that the prior had rushed from. At the very back of this wave, a mannequin with a chef's hat and a comically oversized rolling pin wielded like a greatclub would walk out. It moved differently from the others - more lifelike, and with some confidence in how it wielded its chosen weapon. For now it'd stand back, its faceless gaze focused on Otis and what he would do next. In the meantime, more of those chefs would be sprinting straight for the clueless boy and, by extension, Otis himself.

[hr]

[@Estylwen]

[b][h3]WALKWAY[/h3][/b]

Rounding the walkway, Ciara would find herself with many options thrown at her all at once. To her immediate left would be some kind of circular stage with multiple sigils drawn overlapping with one another and a very distinct golden pillar in the center. A signpost near the small bridge leading towards it would read "Leyline Attunement Zone," and even looking at the pillar itself would give the distinct feeling of otherworldly yet invisible power.

To her right, she would see a larger red building with a golden plaque above the doorframe that read, "Main Building." An older man in a brown cloak with its hood up would be seen sweeping the floors nearby, with masterful wrist flicks expertly deflecting dust and debris to other, less visible parts of the campus grounds. He'd take note of Ciara, waving her way with a smile. He wore leather armor under his cloak, shown now for the first time as he turned to face her, dressed like a rugged adventurer. He seemed aged, probably in his mid forties, but even through his wrinkles there was a smirk of self-assurance and a glint of hard-working sweat dripping down his rugged chin stubble. Lastly, there was a rusty pin on his cloak near the chest that read "Janitor."

He leaned against his broom with a sigh. "Heavy workload for all of us," he'd grunt out with a tired yet playful tone, sending a knowing look in Ciara's direction. "But for the 'light of the future' like you guys, I guess that's to be expected, eh? Shit's rough."

While still looking towards Ciara, the man would point behind him at the door that gave away its location as the main building. "Ya didn't hear it from me, but the auditorium's somewhere in there. I mean, probably, anyway. I just sweep the floors, I dunno about what ol' Miss is thinking, dropping you kids in an impromptu battlefield like this, but it sucks. Back when I was a kid, I just had to worry about which crayons tasted the best."

With a shrug and a smile, he'd lean against the wall by the door, broom clattering to the ground as he shoved his hands into his pants' pockets. "Blue, by the way. The blue crayons definitely tasted the best."

Further down the way past the door labeled "Main Building," a pathway that seemed reminiscent of a city street would find itself directly ahead, and in a branching path just before the entrance to said street, a descending walkway veering downwards out of sight.