Petty Theft, Grand Justice (Garro + Solomon)

Solomon's dash into the deeper parts of the sub-basement wasn't completely a blind rush for safety. The bount was good at keeping a cool head, and the dash made sense for a number of reasons. First, Oase needed a bit of space to pull herself back together. As a Doll, she was leagues more durable than her appearance suggested, but going after her magic had been a smart play by Lastig. Secondly, there were a few things down here that Solomon suspected would be of some use fighting the swarm, and if they weren't used, they'd be consumed anyway. Third, and perhaps more cynically, a certain degree of space from the insane hollow would be sensible. Maybe he was really as heroic as he tried to present himself, albeit with altogether too much drama. History had seen stranger things. Maybe he meant it, but was so mad that his "help" would turn into detriment later on. Maybe this was a two-monster con. Regardless, leaving Garro behind for a moment was a solid way to hedge his position. Dashing over clutter he'd long since meant to clean up, the bount made his way through a maze of odd objects and old stories, cursing silently that he'd likely loose many of them this evening. No. Focus. Stay with what you could do, not lament what you couldn't. Looking down at Oase, he managed to stabilize his mind a touch. It was a truly rare event that she didn't have an enigmatic smile on her face. He wounded, half-conscious state she was in ill suited her. More than the rare objects, as prized as Solomon found them, THAT was why Lastig would die, and poorly.

And as he rounded a corner, there was his means. A small, well sealed room with a solid lock and what passed for wards he could manage. Solomon slipped inside, unable to seal the magics by himself at this point (hopefully the bug monster would seek the energy in the door, which would at least keep him at bay for a few moments. As to the other one, Garro would find no greater obstruction if he chose to follow than the fact that the door knob was twice his height.

Allowing a moment of rest, he placed Oase down and sorted through the one shelf in the room. Far from the packed, creaking ones outside this chamber, this held only a handful of altogether more worrisome devices. Thing's he'd collected, hoped to never use, but kept for pragmatism's sake. A sensible choice, in retrospect. Three orbs, one orange, one violet, one blue. Carefully picking each up, he slotted them into different pockets. Let the first be all that he needed.

Turning back, he'd hoped to see the doll opening her eyes. Luck wasn't with him, at the moment. She stirred, but didn't rise or even appear completely awake. He sat down beside her, grasping her hand lightly. Still flush, so the damage was seemingly mostly mystical. Still, she'd need to regain consciousness if this were going to work.

I am aware that it is much to ask, given the circumstances, but if you do not awaken, I do not believe we will be able to fortify the area sufficiently. This could be... He didn't finish the thought. Not just because it was painful; she simply showed no sign of hearing him. Very well. There were other options. Dolls and their summoners bore a bond that only grew stronger with time, and the two of them understood each on a very nearly fundamental level, even if they didn't always agree. He focused on that, the connecting strands of power that let her manifest in physical space instead of sealed away as many dolls were. He managed a small, uncharacteristic smile as he let more power flow through that, alongside an impression.

You spend a few minutes asleep and I'm already rendered near-useless. No doubt you'll revel in holding it over my head for months. You simply need to wake up to do so. I Wish you would wake up. Curious how a thought could hold a tone as well as speech. He actually thought he could feel a chuckle in response as a more significant amount of his own energy was pulled through her as Marid's Glory triggered, putting her injuries to rest, though without restoring her energy reserves. Acceptable, he found himself thinking as she slowly pushed herself into sitting position.

You truly must be desperate. What now?

I've retrieved the trio. With the assistance of our...captain...we should stand a better chance. She raised an eyebrow, which carried with it her previous statement all over again. He put her arm over his shoulder to help her stand. Normally, that was pointless, as the doll's relationship with gravity was 'casual acquaintance' at best. Best to spare even that tiny amount of power for now though. Placing his hand in the pocket with the orange orb, he clamped down and made his way back into the basement proper.