<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/cd/CorinneLorimer.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Corinne Lorimer (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1945676)<br/><strong>Location: </strong>Asylum Guest Room<br/><strong>Wearing: </strong>Tattered blue robe<br/><strong>Content: </strong>Momentary panic.<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Open<br/><hr/><br/>Corinne let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. If even Danae could distinguish between her arcane dabbling and darker witchcraft, then she could feel reasonably safe.<br/><br/>"Thank you," she said, her voice shaky. "All of you. I will admit, Mme Vine-Lott, I was most concerned for your response. You are a most... imposing woman, and I should hate to have any misunderstanding."<br/><br/>To Aloisa, she laughed laughed softly, though the mention of her parents stirred up uncomfortable memories she would rather have left buried. "You would not be the first to accuse me of having more curiosity than sense. I shall do my best to place our survival over more academic interests, though."<br/><br/>Though Faelyn was a wild woman, she had worried Corinne the least. The elf was concerned with greater forces than some witch. "While I hope we can avoid further further tensions, I suspect you may be right. I, for one, am more concerned about the 'Doctors' here. Rehner in particular..."<br/><br/>"Thank you again," she said. "Your trust means the world to me." She would sleep easier, knowing there were no superstitious knives at her back.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Corinne jolted awake with a startled yelp as something landed on her exposed leg. She cast about blindly, trying to orient herself, remember where she was. Her eyes fixed on the window, on the fog swirling outside, and she froze. In her mind, she was no longer in the asylum, but out in its midst, naked and terrified, drinking in its maddening vapours, choking on them.<br/><br/>Her head spinning, she reached out for anything real, anything solid... and found Zoe's side in the cot next to her. Warmth and comfort slowly pushed back the cold terror, and she could breathe once more, her chest heaving.<br/><br/>When reality had fully reasserted itself, she pushed herself up on shaky legs and navigated the tight confines of the guest room, tying her tattered robe about herself once more. Reality, however, was unnerving. The pipes, those marvels of engineering that had so entranced her during the day, now seemed to rattle like some shamanic fetish, a dark ritual to awaken dark things.<br/><br/>As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw Aloisa, poised with weapons drawn. Danger. Corinne flexed her fingers – they felt weak, as though still asleep – trying to regain some semblance of fine motor control. At last, they felt responsive; chanting<em>sotto voce,</em>her right hand wove a sign of protection, while her left drew out a strand of magic, drawing it into a second layer of protection.<br/><br/>Her defences in place, she looked to Aloisa, trusting the guard's instincts. The cold edge of terror crept a little closer - what did she plan to do if there<em>was</em>danger? She was a scholar, not a warrior. What, precisely, did she plan to do if she found herself fighting for her life?<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OoC</div><div class="spoiler_body">Corinne casts <em>Mage Armor</em>, activating her Arcane Ward class feature, granting it 12 hit points.<br/></div></div>