[He'll listen to her complaint later.....actually, no. That's a lie, he'll do no such thing. He counted in his head roughly alongside Sheryl's, and when he was finished he started to count again this time from fifteen down.
He slowed his breathing down with each number, picturing Sheryl making her way down the lobby while the guests continued to get drunk and enjoy. He pictured the servants plotting their next move, the mastermind somewhere among them irked that no one seemed bothered. Good, he thought. No one was ready for him.
As the count down came closer to zero, Bishop raised a hand and conjured a feather, pale green and threw it into the room like a dart or a knife. The feather shimmered and a gust of wind rushed through, blowing the flour everywhere and scattering it further then when it was spread in a thick grey-white cloud he gun and gave it an order. Incendiary, the gun's cylinder changing to a fire orange then firing. A red hit bolt flew into the room while Bishop, instantaneously, turned around and ran.
The flour ignited and in half a second the corner to the house exploded with a thundering crash, the second floor hallway catching fire while explosion itself reached all the way to the ground floor then to the top floor. It's no surprise that the the guests and servants were rattled and started to evacuate when the fire started to show itself in the ballroom.
While this happened Bishop raced down the hall with superhuman speed, the force of the explosion and fire right behind him, and he burst through the window at the end of the hall and into the front yard just as the fire caught up. He rolled as he landed, and by his estimation, should be right in front of Sheryl at the western end. Or, well, at least she should have seen him launch out the window with a fireball right on his tail.]
Hooo, buddy! Talk about being hot on my heels. [If he has time to make lame jokes, he's probably fine.]
no subject
He slowed his breathing down with each number, picturing Sheryl making her way down the lobby while the guests continued to get drunk and enjoy. He pictured the servants plotting their next move, the mastermind somewhere among them irked that no one seemed bothered. Good, he thought. No one was ready for him.
As the count down came closer to zero, Bishop raised a hand and conjured a feather, pale green and threw it into the room like a dart or a knife. The feather shimmered and a gust of wind rushed through, blowing the flour everywhere and scattering it further then when it was spread in a thick grey-white cloud he gun and gave it an order. Incendiary, the gun's cylinder changing to a fire orange then firing. A red hit bolt flew into the room while Bishop, instantaneously, turned around and ran.
The flour ignited and in half a second the corner to the house exploded with a thundering crash, the second floor hallway catching fire while explosion itself reached all the way to the ground floor then to the top floor. It's no surprise that the the guests and servants were rattled and started to evacuate when the fire started to show itself in the ballroom.
While this happened Bishop raced down the hall with superhuman speed, the force of the explosion and fire right behind him, and he burst through the window at the end of the hall and into the front yard just as the fire caught up. He rolled as he landed, and by his estimation, should be right in front of Sheryl at the western end. Or, well, at least she should have seen him launch out the window with a fireball right on his tail.]
Hooo, buddy! Talk about being hot on my heels. [If he has time to make lame jokes, he's probably fine.]