[Oh, that's his blood sweat, cool. Palamedes trusts Viktor to know what he's doing, mostly focusing on the ward— he can't help but be curious about whatever this ritual is, much as it turns out to be underwhelming, as actions go.
Still, the few seconds Singed is touching the ward are uncomfortable, in a way Palamedes can't explain; the ward is thanergy held up and made tangible, not any piece of himself. He reasons that Singed walking through them earlier is a good enough explanation as any for why he feels something off now, and then— there he goes.
Palamedes' gaze darts to Cytherea as Viktor smudges his head, and she simply watches. In the moment before she too disappears she tosses the chalk at the two of them with almost whimsical laxness; it rolls toward their feet and stops, and then she's gone. Palamedes glances up, past where she was, and says,] Great.
[But he does drop the ward now, after an extra moment to be sure they're really gone. He's bloody and tired, reaching for Viktor to check him for any errant injuries from those first object throws. Cytherea's writing has all but exploded: the lyctorhood steps still sit in the center on the board, while 'YOU LIED TO US' is scrawled in increasingly erratic sizes all around it on the wall behind.
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Still, the few seconds Singed is touching the ward are uncomfortable, in a way Palamedes can't explain; the ward is thanergy held up and made tangible, not any piece of himself. He reasons that Singed walking through them earlier is a good enough explanation as any for why he feels something off now, and then— there he goes.
Palamedes' gaze darts to Cytherea as Viktor smudges his head, and she simply watches. In the moment before she too disappears she tosses the chalk at the two of them with almost whimsical laxness; it rolls toward their feet and stops, and then she's gone. Palamedes glances up, past where she was, and says,] Great.
[But he does drop the ward now, after an extra moment to be sure they're really gone. He's bloody and tired, reaching for Viktor to check him for any errant injuries from those first object throws. Cytherea's writing has all but exploded: the lyctorhood steps still sit in the center on the board, while 'YOU LIED TO US' is scrawled in increasingly erratic sizes all around it on the wall behind.
Well, her drama has to wait.]
Are you alright?