[ Akua's sparks do what they're meant to— Misa's forced to lower her gaze to shield her eyes from staring directly at them - though not before she can tell just who is the one who sent them. It's that woman from before, the one who had been so curious about the Regent's ideal world. With her blade drawn, she fully means to make a break for them, not particularly afraid of facing off against two well-known magic users, or at least, much less as she should be as an ex-relatively normal girl. She takes one, two quick paces towards them before—
A thud.
Instantaneously, she whips her head back around, as the sound had reverberated much too heavily to have come from Ernesto. Her eyes go directly to the blood already spilt on the ground, traveling up shakily to the source, and... her mind just goes blank. Time seems to come to a screaming halt, an incessantly loud ringing in her ears drowning out any further communications between Rand, Akua, and Ernesto, and all color drains from her rosy face. Perhaps her horror is made more evident by the distinct lack of an immediate sound that comes from her, or by her obvious stumble in her rush to dart back down the stairs, uncaring if she misses steps or trips over herself in the process. In an instant, she completely abandons her pursuit for Rand. The first word she can choke out, in a voice cracking with dry terror: ]
Amos!
[ Her eyes are already on him as she comes down, the stone enchantment creeping steadily up and over his shoulder and blooming over into his chest in all directions. She's in such a rush, she doesn't bother to think I told you so, nor does she think of the potential danger of getting so close to Ernesto himself. As things are, she can't even lift her eyes to look at what he's doing, or where he's going to begin with, if she has any hope of saving Amos's life.
As soon as she's close enough, she skids onto her knees with a painful desperation, delicate hands closing over the wound as tightly as she's able, blood running hot and thick through her fingers despite all her efforts. She's trembling, cold sweat dripping down wetly from her chin. ]
...No! No, this can't be happening....
[ Not again. Her words are quiet, said hastily to herself and for herself, almost like a mantra. She never wanted to lose anyone again like this. She thinks of her mother, pale and twitching, bleeding out from the neck in their family home - of how she could do nothing but watch, cowering away in the corner and hoping to every and any deity out there that she wasn't next. Back then, there was nothing she could've done— but now, she can do something. She has to do something. Misa chokes on a sob, still unable to lift her head or look anywhere else - all she's focused on is holding his neck closed, waiting for her enchantment to reach where her hands lay. Only when it's beginning to get there does she have the mental capacity to call for help, her voice thoroughly panicked and raw, and undoubtedly audible to all of the Pleroma present. ]
cw: throat trauma, blood
A thud.
Instantaneously, she whips her head back around, as the sound had reverberated much too heavily to have come from Ernesto. Her eyes go directly to the blood already spilt on the ground, traveling up shakily to the source, and... her mind just goes blank. Time seems to come to a screaming halt, an incessantly loud ringing in her ears drowning out any further communications between Rand, Akua, and Ernesto, and all color drains from her rosy face. Perhaps her horror is made more evident by the distinct lack of an immediate sound that comes from her, or by her obvious stumble in her rush to dart back down the stairs, uncaring if she misses steps or trips over herself in the process. In an instant, she completely abandons her pursuit for Rand. The first word she can choke out, in a voice cracking with dry terror: ]
Amos!
[ Her eyes are already on him as she comes down, the stone enchantment creeping steadily up and over his shoulder and blooming over into his chest in all directions. She's in such a rush, she doesn't bother to think I told you so, nor does she think of the potential danger of getting so close to Ernesto himself. As things are, she can't even lift her eyes to look at what he's doing, or where he's going to begin with, if she has any hope of saving Amos's life.
As soon as she's close enough, she skids onto her knees with a painful desperation, delicate hands closing over the wound as tightly as she's able, blood running hot and thick through her fingers despite all her efforts. She's trembling, cold sweat dripping down wetly from her chin. ]
...No! No, this can't be happening....
[ Not again. Her words are quiet, said hastily to herself and for herself, almost like a mantra. She never wanted to lose anyone again like this. She thinks of her mother, pale and twitching, bleeding out from the neck in their family home - of how she could do nothing but watch, cowering away in the corner and hoping to every and any deity out there that she wasn't next. Back then, there was nothing she could've done— but now, she can do something. She has to do something. Misa chokes on a sob, still unable to lift her head or look anywhere else - all she's focused on is holding his neck closed, waiting for her enchantment to reach where her hands lay. Only when it's beginning to get there does she have the mental capacity to call for help, her voice thoroughly panicked and raw, and undoubtedly audible to all of the Pleroma present. ]
Ciel! Emet! Somebody, please...