Ironically, despite not trying, he'd technically succeeded in summoning an angel. Half of one, anyway. Alec squints at that don't help no one, but reluctantly lets it go without comment.
Luckily the wyverns and bats don't swoop in between the fourth and fifth levels: though Alec has been through the whole cage rattling rigamarole on lower floors, he trusts the lift less and less with each inch they ascend. He might not get turned into a wet splat on the ground if the elevator gets shaken hard enough to drop them all the way down (thank you, combat runes), but John is only just starting to look less like death warmed over and Alec wouldn't necessarily trust ability to survive a stiff breeze at the moment.
Not that he actually knows what John can or can't do. His explanation for the ritual seems so haphazard, but whatever stubborn pride Alec has, he can still acknowledge that he doesn't know the first thing about magic theory crafting. Maybe all spells are secretly that much of a mish-mash, and Magnus just somehow manages to make them look graceful and deliberate?
Probably not, but you know. Maybe. "Okay," he acquiesces after a moment, and opens his mouth to interrogate further, but suddenly the sky opens up above them and it turns out that the weather is rainy. They've reached the top. "Finally," he interrupts himself to mutter, but then the elevator door finishes opening up to a sea of yellow, water-logged bones. That's... probably not good. "What the hell?" He shoots John a look like he expects the man to be able to explain, for some reason.
have a preference for who gets sick?
Luckily the wyverns and bats don't swoop in between the fourth and fifth levels: though Alec has been through the whole cage rattling rigamarole on lower floors, he trusts the lift less and less with each inch they ascend. He might not get turned into a wet splat on the ground if the elevator gets shaken hard enough to drop them all the way down (thank you, combat runes), but John is only just starting to look less like death warmed over and Alec wouldn't necessarily trust ability to survive a stiff breeze at the moment.
Not that he actually knows what John can or can't do. His explanation for the ritual seems so haphazard, but whatever stubborn pride Alec has, he can still acknowledge that he doesn't know the first thing about magic theory crafting. Maybe all spells are secretly that much of a mish-mash, and Magnus just somehow manages to make them look graceful and deliberate?
Probably not, but you know. Maybe. "Okay," he acquiesces after a moment, and opens his mouth to interrogate further, but suddenly the sky opens up above them and it turns out that the weather is rainy. They've reached the top. "Finally," he interrupts himself to mutter, but then the elevator door finishes opening up to a sea of yellow, water-logged bones. That's... probably not good. "What the hell?" He shoots John a look like he expects the man to be able to explain, for some reason.