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Realizing there is nothing left to do, and that the doll isn't striking at him physically, the Priest throws what caution he can muster through the pain to the wind and books it for the door. He just had to make it out. Once they were away he could pass out all he wanted. As he runs he begins flushing what he can of his mana reserves into his pattern, hoping beyond hope that he can do so before darkness claims him.
-1 Mana to begin pattern restoration
Gears turned very slowly in Vincent's head, trying to push through the fog. No..not Toby...Call Toby..fix fire, burn muses..right. Call Toby. he says to himself has he walks out the door wiping his bloody hand on his shirt. Someone else was supposed to be with him thought. "Not Toby..Sam..Sam-I-am. Sam-I-am." he chukles weakly.
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The doll has stopped chasing, instead her blue eyes are boring holes in the back of the priest as he stumbles away. The small mechanics of Pandemonium working, pulling down on the place of testing.
Reaching out to the priest, before shattering as they flew.
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Samael continues to run, with the last bit of energy he has, fighting off unconsciousness for just a little bit longer, he makes it to the door. All the while he continues to feed mana into his pattern, hoping that the raw magic will eventually wash away the mounting pain and chase away the blackness that threatens to consume him. Just a little further....
Samael spends his last willpower, -1 mana to continue pattern restoration
"Call Toby, burn fire, fix vase..call Toby..bike..bike..." Vincent starts looking around blurrily, trying to remember where he locked his bike up. "Wait..taxi..took a taxi...no..yes..no.."
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Unaware that his friend the Padre was now completely in the clutches of the Miriam, Vincent stumbles down the steps of the museum and down the street, hand pressed to his face. His face, sweatshirt and jeans are smeared with blood. "Toby..gotta call Toby..Miach! Yeah Toby and Miach...and Idy..fix my fire, burn the muse."
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With the fallen Priest on the floor it takes the doll sometime to reach him the last pieces of her next feather finding the priest’s throat.
He wouldn’t survive, and she had done the last work of her duty. Another sinner judged; his soul had been weighed. And then she fell her task done for the time being.
Samael has been killed.
Scene End
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