Felix sighs, and makes it sound resigned. He doesn't need to feign his worry, at least. The only reason he's not more nervous in this moment is that he doesn't have it in him. He's passed through dread and weariness and now there's just acceptance of what he's going to do.
"Right," he says. With his left hand he draws his hood over his head, casting his face in grey shadow. "Of course. I... understand."
And as he takes a step back, he uncurls his right hand from his chest. There's a pale green light swirling in his palm, playing over his fingers- but Jim won't get to see it before the conjurer looses the paralysis spell into his back.
As people around them notice and recoil in confusion, Felix is swift to take advantage. His hand curls and flexes again, and this time an orb of shadow and purple-blue light hits the widening space beside them. The nearest bystanders scatter with gasps or startled yelps as the sphere yawns wider, higher than a man, warping the very space around it- and collapses. In its wake towers a presence of glacial form and stature, cloaked in a freezing aura that begins to coat the furniture in seconds.
"Time to go, beloved." Felix meets Isidor's eyes as he gestures, and the frost atronach stoops to pick up Jim. Its arms are stubby spears of ice: no hands, no fingers, yet it's surprisingly dexterous as it lays the captain over its shoulder.
"So sorry to leave you, Ms. Durant, but this is as far as we go." A snap and thrum of air, and his sword appears in his hand, spectral and curved. The atronach is already turning, plowing its way to the door without heed for objects or persons in its way. Felix keeps his sword raised in guard as he backs after it, his other hand lifted and ready to cast.
no subject
"Right," he says. With his left hand he draws his hood over his head, casting his face in grey shadow. "Of course. I... understand."
And as he takes a step back, he uncurls his right hand from his chest. There's a pale green light swirling in his palm, playing over his fingers- but Jim won't get to see it before the conjurer looses the paralysis spell into his back.
As people around them notice and recoil in confusion, Felix is swift to take advantage. His hand curls and flexes again, and this time an orb of shadow and purple-blue light hits the widening space beside them. The nearest bystanders scatter with gasps or startled yelps as the sphere yawns wider, higher than a man, warping the very space around it- and collapses. In its wake towers a presence of glacial form and stature, cloaked in a freezing aura that begins to coat the furniture in seconds.
"Time to go, beloved." Felix meets Isidor's eyes as he gestures, and the frost atronach stoops to pick up Jim. Its arms are stubby spears of ice: no hands, no fingers, yet it's surprisingly dexterous as it lays the captain over its shoulder.
"So sorry to leave you, Ms. Durant, but this is as far as we go." A snap and thrum of air, and his sword appears in his hand, spectral and curved. The atronach is already turning, plowing its way to the door without heed for objects or persons in its way. Felix keeps his sword raised in guard as he backs after it, his other hand lifted and ready to cast.