[img=http://i.imgur.com/UPINOf1.png] [b][u]Aliquam: Academy of the Arts – Performance Hall, Exterior[/b][/u] The brat slipped through and there was nothing he could do about that, but with the amount of Guilders already wreaking chaos inside that theater… “Miss Amy!” Lute, with a hand held over his stomach, grunted as he threw that accursed pole away. Right after it snapped like that, it reverted to its tinier form and the virtuoso didn’t want any contingencies to play while he was carrying it. “We need to get you to Estelle!” He growled out. The swordswoman still seemed to be unconscious and he was getting more and more worried with her injury. What if her nose caved in and she drowned in her own blood!? Granted, he only read about that kind of injury happening in gang wars… In novels… A-anyway! It wasn’t supposed to go like this! It was a 5 vs. 2 match! Bunnyface was blocking the way and… What the hell? Was he giving some sort of pep talk to Moira!? “Get your hands off her!” Lute hollered, “Haven’t you had enough!?” What if he was trying to crush her head between those boulder hands of his!? Damn dude had a weirdass rabbit mask on, who knew if he was some serial killer before the donned that thing! The virtuoso ran towards his sword and ducked, picking it up before skidding near the half-open theater doors. He pulled it shut and covered the entryway like a sentinel, his hands shaking as the (psychotic) rabbit man turned his head to look at the source of the yell. Oh Gods… What if he really was a murderer!? What if that mask was made from the skin of his victims and… According to Lucien, there could only be one reason why a person could be as strong as Moira or Bunnyface; he was like [i]that[/i] because he sacrificed souls to the haunted spoon! ... Well you know what, he wasn’t doing any dying unless Ruana told him to! “I’m not afraid of you!” Lute yelled again and slid into a defensive stance. This would be a good time for Amy to sneak off and help whoever she deemed currently needed her magic the most… --------------------------------------------------- [img=http://i.imgur.com/4zPgtlc.png] [b][u]Aliquam: Academy of the Arts – Performance Hall[/b][/u] “Fabbee! Just the very person I needed!” The young thief’s entry into the theater didn’t go unnoticed and Francesca ran towards him, a cocoon made of dark vines thrashing vigorously as it dragged behind her. “Take care of her for me, will you?” Before Fabian could even protest, a weaponless Trixie was unrolled from her bindings and flung at him as the woman headed towards Jay. That scuffle between the pasty artist and the Masked Phantom… The detonator falling from their leader’s hands… A bird ejecting feces as it circled overhead… [i]Merde![/i] What a disastrous, infuriating set of events! Francesca leapt over one of the seats ripped from their places by the Phantom’s attacks, and her shadows lashed out and wrapped around the chair. Once she was back on her feet she spun around; the long, slender branches of grapnel whipped through the air and the chair on its end struck both Xandra and Angel. The two fell to the ground, either from the hit or the surprise or maybe even both, and Francesca brought a hand to her forehead, feeling the beginnings of an intense migraine. The shadows emanating from her back hissed and dissipated in response to her tension. When things don’t go as planned her head starts to pound and this situation? It was just an endless nightmare full of cats that were riddled with fleas and birds more than happy to share their excretions with the world.