Christian | Issac | Elia
True to Issac's fashion, in the face of utter darkness and pain, his taunting response had been more reactionary than purposefully laughing in the face of danger. Cool shadows created a pillow barrier as the wiry frame of the mentalist swayed once more. The pain of his powers spiked through his brain; a wound ripped open once more by whatever it was that looked to feast on them.
The band-aids that had been put in place, the mirrored talisman of his own creation that was supposed to help when his migraines grew too much, had shattered. Squeezing the chittering darkling in his arms in a hug, it wanted to join the rest of its brothers, but Issac needed its soothing darkness more now than he had.
Every intake of breath shook with strained effort to function. Whatever it was he could feel its presence in his head and its direction of a thousand spirits' voices. Beyond their cacophony of sound, he felt a spike in Cat's surface thoughts- they were not near but the living minds of his coworkers had strong ties into his brain and magic. He tried to reach out to comfort her, but whatever spirits paced the battlefield yelled louder at him. The darkling dropped to the ground, given up to hold his hands over his ears as if it would help.