A pulse of control warps reality around Absinthe as she tries to push herself into the twilight where ghosts and strong spirits reside. Reality ripples and bounces back, knocking her down to her knees in front of the second bed in the hotel room where she was trapped.
"You okay if I smoke?" asks Bishop as the early thirties Italian New-Yorker casually stands up from the guest chair and walks toward the window.
Absinthe is desperately trying to catch her breath in-between the two hotel beds.
Bishop casually steps onto the window sill, then through the window onto the ledge, looking around and lighting his cigarette from his finger. He turns sideways to lean against the window, and turns his head casually toward the mage.
"Terrible habit, I know, but, everyone's gotta die sometimes, am I right?!"
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Beware the things you think then say, as they may return someday...