D.E.M.O.N.S: Getting Summoned Weekly isn't so Bad



--- Gareth ---

Gareth grit his teeth as he cleared the eleventh ring, then the twelfth ring just below it. He'd committed to the plan. Somewhat. It just wasn't going to be fun. He didn't know exactly how it was going to play out, but the next steps were at least somewhat clear. Gareth started to head towards the next set of rings and tried to see just how many rings the 'ring' below him in the centre was made up of. *If only I could tell! Damn it all! If I knew I would know if it's worth going unconscious to tag the last set of two!*

Gareth grimaced. He knew he hadn't exactly been fast getting through all of these rings, he'd been maximising his surface area for the most part, so missing out on one or two extra rings could be a massive deal. *It probably won't be enough for second place.* Whispered a traitorous part of his mind, but Gareth shoved that voice down quickly. That wasn't the point. *This is my task and I will see it through.*

And like that Gareth had found his answer. He glided through the first set of two rings, then angled himself to the East, picking up the fifteenth and sixteenth ring without issue. Then he looked down at his hand. He knew what hat to be done. Gareth pointed his hand outwards, and let the glove rip his mana from him. 

Several things happened at once. Black shades sprung into the corners of his vision. His arm, the one he'd used to launch himself, felt like it had been flayed then the muscles salted afterwards just to make a point. The rest of his body was on fire, and it burned and ached. The black shades seemed to whisper of sweet nothings. Of how he could rest now. That his task was done. 

Yet it was NOT DONE. Gareth turned his body the best he could, barely registering the glow that signalled he'd made it through the next two rings. Gareth rolled in the air after that, heading for the area above the 'final ring'. The shades almost seemed hungry now. Those twisting figures of black were consuming more and more of his vision. The ring(s?) in the distance were all he could see. An intense focus on the golden light. 

Gareth felt his mind starting to spin, or was that his body? He couldn't tell anymore as his senses started to disconnect. The taste of bile giving way to ash. The feel of the wind brushing against his body turning to chill. The whistling in his ears as he fell instead turning to silence. The shades hungered for that last bit of space. That last golden speck Gareth could see in his mind. 

And they claimed it. Long before he could arrive at the last ring he could see. His vision darkened. Gareth wasn't even aware enough to hope he'd lined things up correctly before the void claimed him. 

--- Nabras ---

Nabras stared at the wooden cutout of Gareth and swallowed hard. Thyme was smiling, bright gleaming eyes that almost seemed to hide a hint of malice in them now. Perhaps that was just Nabras' mind jumping to things. Perhaps it was his own rapidly beating heart influencing him. The fact that he'd not really recovered much mana at all. Nabras glared down at the accursed glove on his hands. 

*I'm not using this fucking thing. Gareth was doing a lot better than I… but… the spinning… and the falling. I don't even know if I want to know what his score is.*

"There you have it! Gareth has finished his final run. Alas, you may notice Gareth is not here in front of you, but a rather fetching wooden cut-out of him that I fashioned myself," Thyme said with a grin. Nabras wanted to be sick. Then again, he'd felt that way since the end of the second jump so that didn't really have anything to do with Thyme's words. "See, sadly, Gareth has fallen unconscious. And not just that, he has overdrafted himself"

Nabras sneered. What a word. 'Overdrafted'. He knew what that sort of thing did to people. His aunt had been killed when she overdrafted her mana. Sure it wasn't always fatal, but it was never good. His uncle had never been the same afterwards, and he didn't like to think about the incident at all.  I think you should take a look at

"Now, I can assure you Gareth will be fine," continued Thyme. "I am more than capable of easing, and even curing overdraft in people. It's not exactly easy even for me, but for someone so much weaker then I am, it is no real trouble. Alas, it does mean that Gareth won't  be waking up for a little while. Best let him recover properly instead of rushing things or we risk damage," 

*I find that I don't believe you.* Thyme, still not paying attention to Nabras' turmoil, kept speaking. "Now, before we even talk about Gareth's score, I need to emphasise that what Gareth did, is NOT a good idea. I do not encourage overdrafting. It is a really bad idea, and even though I can fix it, not many people can. It's a condition that usually results in death, or significant loss in ability. It's not too different to have a limb cut off. Potentially very dangerous, and not something everyone can heal. So AVOID IT. 

"Now, I also want to make it clear that I am fast, very fast indeed. I can do things near instantly… but part of doing things near instantly involves stopping time. I cannot stop time AND heal your overdraft because my medicine and healing techniques need to move through the body to work properly. Now, please by aware. When I say that Gareth is only experience 'minor overdraft' that it's a lot like saying 'he's only missing a bit of his chest' after having a heart ripped out. Technically true, but still massively deadly," 

Nabras felt himself deflate. The look in Thyme's eyes, harsh, because it needed to be. *Oh. Oh Thyme is taking this seriously.* "So here's my warning. What Gareth did was stupid, and not something I want repeated. Technically, I can't stop you, but I want it to be clear. If Gareth had less mana when he used the glove, or was suffering from more damage, or heck, if he'd passed out further up? He could've died. 

"So know this. I am obligated to let you finish your jump here. If I take you out early, that might constitute interference on my behalf and cause all sorts of political issues. On the other hand, if I take too long to treat you, you might die. If you overdraft yourself while nearly empty on mana instead of with a decent amount like Gareth? You'll probably die, and if you do this sort of shit while I'm not around? You WILL die. 

"I told you all that the gloves are poorly made intentionally. This is not just a simple 'he ran out of mana and passed out'. Some teachers like to tell people that's what overdrafting is. That's not the case. No, it's when you draw more mana from your body then it has. I don't like to think about where it takes the extra mana from," 

Thyme paused there, taking in a long deep breath, then exhaling, letting their balloon-like appearance deflate a little as they did. "Now, I hope you all understand the dangers. This is mean to be a fun, light-hearted round of the tournament. I've tried rather hard to keep things safe, and to keep everyone smiling. Some people," Thyme glared at the cut-out of Gareth, "decided that pushing themselves, and going 'above and beyond' was a good idea. I do not want any deaths on my head, and I do not want people complaining about interference to save someone's life. So please, try not to be stupid about this," 

Thyme then sucked in their breath again, filling the 'balloon' chest back up, "Now, we've got to go over Gareth's time. Part of me wants to save it for later. This is the final round after all. Keep you all sweating… but I would've just announced it normally if Gareth was actually standing here, so I should do it anyway. 

"But… I guess I will add a little twist," continued Thyme. "Gareth's final time, for the third jump, penalties included is nine minutes, and fifty-four seconds," 

Thyme let that hang in the air for a while. Nobody had really been counting, but that seemed like quite a few missed rings. The question was, just how many? Ten? Five? Somewhere in-between probably but Nabras knew he'd been focusing on regenerating mana… and failing. 

"Now, we've got Nabras up for his jump next," said Thyme. 

*Oh fuck me. Can I just forfeit? Even if I don't think Thyme is some evil sadist out to cause us all pain anymore, which really was kind of a stupid thought to begin with. That doesn't mean I want to use these death traps! I mean… I could pull off a Mauve? Just blast down, barely snagging the rings on my way? It's probably not going to get me a win… but I think I blew that chance when I overused my gloves last round.*

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