The day had gone off to a lovely start: Katrina had originally decided to attend the carnival because of the threats that had been floating around, but she soon forgot about this upon realizing that some of the people here had dogs. Unfortunately, this perfectly-reasonable distraction meant that she completely and totally forgot to stick to her original plan. She had entered the place with the idea of going into a tent for some privacy and entering one of her trances so that she could scout around the perimeter of the carnival; that way if Raiders showed up she could swiftly re-enter her body and warn everyone who listened so that they could escape before it was too late. Of course, the plan wasn't perfect. She hadn't taken into account the very real possibility that they could just shoot anyone who ran before gaining much proximity. 

At first, Katrina was taken off guard when the bull terrier she'd been petting looked up in shock as his owner loosed a horrified scream. Then her heart sank as the Raiders dragged a tank of God-knows what kind of lethal gas onto the stage. The next series of events half-terrified and half-relieved her as she realized that there were [i]real[/i] heroes here: First a girl sliced the leader's cheeks, then the lights somehow found a way to explode, then there was an unimaginable amount of blood as bullets tore through many of the raiders before she even realized what was happening.  All of this made the blood drain from her face, but Katrina was here to make a difference, dammit, not just sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else take the reigns! 

The petite woman ducked into a tent and took a deep breath. She sat cross-legged on the floor, closed her eyes and detached herself. She looked for a second at her physical body, which had slumped forward and gone completely limp, and turned away. She moved toward the tank of gas and then noticed a woman standing beside it. [i]How long has she been there?[/i] she found herself wondering. She'd thrown a panicked glance at the stage before retreating and she could have sworn that the only people near the tank were a few cadavers and the seemingly-knife crazed woman who'd sliced the leader's face. Katrina's consciousness came up closer and scowled at the terminal. She hoped the other person knew what she was doing, and then moved away to address the cars that had blocked the carnival goers' escape. 

She didn't quite know what she'd do about this yet, as she had never been able to influence the physical world before while in a projection, but she figured that she might as well have at least a look around since she was invulnerable and, she assumed, invisible. She tried to crack her knuckles but it was apparent that her joints hadn't made it into this plane of existence.