Board Thread:Roleplay Ideas/@comment-26210095-20161015002246/@comment-26444332-20161023025154

Instanly, the golden ripples vanish as Asariel closes Rho Aias around himself, and reappear pointed in all directions outwards.

'I see... Analysis: Teleportation. Trace: Unknown. Medium: Unknown," he rattles off, almost like a computer listing statistics. 'Hm... Impressive,' he calls. 'It appears I have no choice but to retreat.'

As he says this, the "gates" vanish, only for one to open next to his hand. A hilt protrudes from it, and Asariel grasps it, pulling a silvery arming-sword with a red cord-wrapped grip from the ripple of light. He sinks the blade's tip into the floor and twists.

'Conceptual Item: Transport!' he calls, and vanishes.

---

Asariel reappears in Washington, and immediately falls to one knee, breathing heavily. He grasps his arm, desperately feeling, but no pain awaits him, the signal of a heart attack.

'I hate having to do that...' he mutters, slipping into darkness.