[Qubit's backup plan was a good one, but he's right: there's just not enough force behind the robocrab's pokes to stir Carlisle. Thankfully, he has a backup backup plan, and that one gets results. The stun gun connects with Carlisle's chest, there's a split second of sharp krrkkrrkkrrking as the taser goes off, and then—]
GAHHH!!
[Carlisle rises with enough force to knock over the mechanical crab before he even realizes it's there. His fingers — with his hand at his abdomen rather than his chest — curl against his coat, the fabric pulled taut as he gasps; the air rakes along his windpipe, his throat impossibly dry. Unfocused, violent light spills from his eyes as he buckles to the pressure of his own magic, and he feels his aural compulsion lash out at those around him — in this case, the only one around him. Though he's helpless against it, he tries to rein it in anyway.]
I'm here! I'm here, I'm- I don't- don't do this—
[He buries his face in his hands, his fingers knocking his glasses and crown askew, his body trembling as he forces himself to take a few deep breaths. One by one, they calm him, and he gains more control over himself, his energies evening out as they flow once more through his frame. Carlisle slowly becomes aware of that current, and of how strong it is, stable in a way it hasn't been since—
Since... well, he can't think of the last time he felt this steady, magic-wise. There's a balance that wasn't there before, and it feels undeniably good. After a minute and some change, he lowers his hands, and while his legs are shaking beneath him more from his nerves than any legitimate weakness, he still manages to get to his feet, straightening his accessories along the way. He looks around him once his glasses are back in place, first at the withered grass, then the decaying remains of the reindire, then the treeline, and finally at Qubit himself. By the time his eyes make it to his friend, the light in them has settled, honed into their usual, illuminated pupils.]
Bless Qubit, man.
GAHHH!!
[Carlisle rises with enough force to knock over the mechanical crab before he even realizes it's there. His fingers — with his hand at his abdomen rather than his chest — curl against his coat, the fabric pulled taut as he gasps; the air rakes along his windpipe, his throat impossibly dry. Unfocused, violent light spills from his eyes as he buckles to the pressure of his own magic, and he feels his aural compulsion lash out at those around him — in this case, the only one around him. Though he's helpless against it, he tries to rein it in anyway.]
I'm here! I'm here, I'm- I don't- don't do this—
[He buries his face in his hands, his fingers knocking his glasses and crown askew, his body trembling as he forces himself to take a few deep breaths. One by one, they calm him, and he gains more control over himself, his energies evening out as they flow once more through his frame. Carlisle slowly becomes aware of that current, and of how strong it is, stable in a way it hasn't been since—
Since... well, he can't think of the last time he felt this steady, magic-wise. There's a balance that wasn't there before, and it feels undeniably good. After a minute and some change, he lowers his hands, and while his legs are shaking beneath him more from his nerves than any legitimate weakness, he still manages to get to his feet, straightening his accessories along the way. He looks around him once his glasses are back in place, first at the withered grass, then the decaying remains of the reindire, then the treeline, and finally at Qubit himself. By the time his eyes make it to his friend, the light in them has settled, honed into their usual, illuminated pupils.]
How long? How- how long was I out?