[i]"Oh, perfect. I get the poetic psycho fire-guy."[/i] Roze thought to herself with a roll of her eyes as the merc burst in, the acrid smell of burnt flesh following him into the room. Caro was whimpering softly in fear now, and she wordlessly cast a shield around herself and him; a neat little bubble that this guy would be unable to get through. Until she got tired that was.
"I was never one for dancing hon," She began, her blue eyes narrowing, and casting a daunting effect with the entirety of her face below her eyes covered by her mask, her head shielded by her dark hood, and casting a dubious shadow over her partially covered face. "But I'd quite happily kick your ass back to the hellhole it crawled out of."
It was a foolish thing to do, wasting her energy on both shielding and fighting this guy. But she couldn't help herself. Despite the fatigue she knew she would soon be feeling, Nightingale was already restless. She needed to do something other than float around this scumbag. Drawing one of her shortswords, she didn't lose eye contact with the merc.
She was looking forward to this