Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20160927005650/@comment-26517142-20161015213719

Jeiel closes his eyes. Reenters his withering mind... and happens upon Circe. Sitting on a floral seat which was already a throne to her, she looks up and snickers. "I guess my time has come. My offenses... need to be paid at last."

" 'Fraid so, former Queen." Jeiel mutters. He takes one last look at her and starts.

"Circe.."

The enchantress hushes him with a finger over his lips. "I don't adore goodbyes and final speeches. At the very least, allow me to have my own dramatic flair of an exit. One that'll be my last."

"I thought after dying thrice, you'd learn a thing or two about vanity."

"One can never get enough of it, Danna-sama."

"For once? I'll let you call me that."

As his mind returns to the gloom of the Crucible, Jeiel enters his finger on the side of his head. Phasing through, it pulls out a thread of nearly-invisible ink that he throws to the Lich's waiting palm. Bit by bit, it assembles into an orb of blacklight.

"That is Circe... all that remains of her - UNGGH!"

Sagging onto the floor, Jeiel feels the throb of the beast, wanting to be freed..

"JEIEL!" The Paths rush to his side. He waves his hand. "NO! Stay away! IF THIS THING BREAKS LOOSE.."

At once the throbbing stops, and Jeiel faces Ibrahim.

"So... this is goodbye, old friend? Will I entrust Oz and my wives to you?"

Cybele: YOU... '''ASSHOLE! STOP IT - ('''cries on her knees)

(One more farewell, Doc, before this happens ...)