[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/qSXKgkY.png[/img]
[sub][@Nanaya][@Estylwen][/sub][/center]
They weren’t the best of buds, but Otis wasn’t a stranger to one-sided relationships.

It was impressive, in a sense, that Wingram Academy had constructed a facsimile of a small town, one not dissimilar to the college towns that made up Rekordia’s academic core. The leanings of the shops and buildings that presented themselves were a touch sterile in how bland and straightforward their names were, and the place itself was still a ghost town when all things were to be considered, and yet all that could be explained away with a simple statement: there would be nervous students and roving Mannekins. The civilians who would operate such stores and facilities were undoubtedly not present, in order to allow for such a violent entrance ceremony to occur.

And, just as his gaze settled upon a door labelled ‘Main Building’, his connection with his partner on the other side tightened. One thought, confirming both physically and spatially the veracity of the auditorium. The second thought, confirming that whatever awaited them inside was going to be a fair bit more combative than the lot of them were prepared for. The third, underlined with urgency.

The fourth, manifesting from his own thought?

Mannekins rushed out from market stalls, crossbows pointed towards the duo before they could even enter the Main Building.

[b]“Show me wonders of this world.”[/b]

Crossbow bolts embedded themselves into the back of a wooden door as Otis turned the brass knob and pulled it open to reveal a world of illuminated darkness, of stars and planets craft from prototypes and materials. Where a dozen weather patterns co-existed within the astral plane, where islands of marble upheld workbenches laden with texts and instruments.

He strode on in, sparing a backwards glance to Davil. If the lad feared the dark, that was all there was to it, but if he followed through, joining the Strigidae in this expanded domain, where a mortal’s whims became divine decree? Blades of all sorts would be pulled from their resting places amongst the stars and orbit the youth, a veritable armory of an inventory’s whimsy. Springloaded cane-swords designed to perfectly ricochet back into the hands of their wields. Massive greatswords with a hollowed-out middle that would resonate like a tuning fork upon impact. Chainsaw katanas that belched out grease and smoke at the touch of a button. Bladeless hilts that would spring out a hardlight edge with but a firm grasp of their handles.

[b]“Pick one. Figure out their utility in ten seconds. You’ll be playing hero for a girl, so don’t mess up your debut, Davil.”[/b] A furrowing of his brow. [b]“And my name is Otis. Awe-tis. Get it right, or I’m sending you an invoice after this.”[/b]

With those words, he continued down a path, each step upon the void replaced by blocks of marble. There were doors in that hallway. There will be more doors too, with a spell to expand the utility of his telepathy spell. All he had to do then, was pick the correct exit.

The entrance disappeared. The exit appeared.

His hand rested upon a silver handle, ending his sojourn in his world.

…

A door to Ciara’s left swung open. If her gaze turned, she’d see first the barrel of a familiar gun  and second a void that drew away to reveal a regular room.

Third on that list though?

Otis’s hand, fanning the hammer of his revolver as he emptied five explosive bullets into the Mannekins closest to her, his words drowned out by the roar of essence-amplified gunpowder, but his intentions clear: he had arrived, and they would see through the last stretch together.

Well, no, maybe it wasn't so clear, because upon recognizing his folly, Otis repeated his message.

[b]"Capture one of those things! If they're [i]just[/i] magic-based constructs, I can reverse-engineer their signalling and take control!"[/b]