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Courtyard

Chel jumped at the sound of Jack's voice, having surprisingly not seen him in the chaos (odd considering he was usually a beacon, just like her pink hair was).

There was no time for pleasantries; this was battle mode. "Infected from what?" Chel asked bewildered. Antiviruses? Civilians? It was a lot to take in having only just woken up.

The second question was easier- "Uh a lot of screamin' people?" As in, not much that helped.

Her eyes widened, looking down at his skin. "Jack yer arm." Her hand went to the hilt of her dagger. He'd asked her before; if the symptoms showed up, she'd take him out. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

[Oliver - Dormitories]

Oliver was frozen in place, wide-eyed when Horace spotted him.

"U-um... wh-what if, um... m-maybe they were s-sleep talking..." The freckled boy stammered nervously, clearly more unnerved than usual by the events taking place. The longer Horace filled him in, the more terrified he began to look. This was happening, literally, too close to home.

[IN COURTYARD]

Rep turned away from the vines, all tense fury and irritation. There were people yelling, people struggling in various places but he simply didn't care. It was probably their own fault. It was probably what they had coming. He couldn't help them anyway, he couldn't stop them, he couldn't help ******** save them from themselves.

What use was it building yourself up your whole life to be offence when at the end of the day all that was left was ******** running unarmed and scared, unable to ******** change a damn thing about what was happening?

Clenching and unclenching his hands, he resented the slackness in his muscles, the heart in his ears and most of all, the silence. The ******** SILENCE in his mind.

There was barely any warning. A minor hiss as he clasped at a all-too familiar marking, an hourglass, before the voices started.

"When the time is right-"

-"you will know-"

"You OWE us-"

He barely had time to even register the words, he owed someone?

Before his head stopped, and still close to Ian he probably crashed into the man on his way down.

----

Thankfully for him, it seemed someone competent in the art of 'saving someones a**' was around. Not long after he hit the ground he was opening his eyes again - only to see a familiar pair looking back at him, close. Quinns tanned skin wasn't enough to hide the flush he felt rising up the back of his neck and creeping onto his face. "I- uh." He remembered Alaska. He hadn't seen her for a while, remembering the teasing and harsh words from previous encounters and how the pair of them had seemingly come to an odd understanding at the end.

He blinked a few times. "Thanks." Not the best of replies, but he was playing the role of 'damsel in distress' at the moment and it felt awkward.

"... what the heck just happened?" And why did his chest feel like it wanted to tear itself from his body.

[Thorn passage]

Slowly, warily, Jordan moved forward, closer to the childlike thing. He'd half expected that there would be no face underneath, but even so, the lack was unnerving. He couldn't go forward, and he couldn't go back. He stopped again directly in front of it, reached out, accepted the mask.

Reflexively, he reached for Ferros's input, but the feeler of wordless thought slipped away into the empty space where the weapon wasn't. It left him off balance, thinking again with only his own mind. Attacking the child-thing sounded like a spectacularly bad idea. The way back was blocked by vines, the way forward was blocked by the waiting, watching entity, and there was a mask in his hand.

The cold numb space inside his mind didn't object. He lifted the mask to his face and put it on.

courtyard

"Green eyes, or something akin to it." Luckily they'd had that discussion. "It's the Grail acting up apparently."

He felt the p***k at his skin a second before Chel pointed it out, and he stretched his arm out and watched, bewildered, as something in scribed itself into his forearm. "The ******** talking to me," he said, on edge. "Don't know who." But it claimed he did. He read his skin writing uselessly as he thought, though there was only one viable answer as far as he could figure.

"What did I promise you?"

The closest one was Allan's room. It thankfully was vacant. It seemed like the Sun lead had left a little before the events started, his usual cosplay gear was packed, and his 3Ds missing.