Gren's arrival did not go over well.  The instant his armored feet impacted the ground, all of the faunus in the room -with the exception of the swan waif- instinctively backed off.  Even the bat, so committed to his deep violet stare, couldn't help but retreat in the face of something so much larger than he.  In fact, the chameleon, the deer, the porcupine, and the bat were all well on their way to the other side of the hall before the latter worked up the nerve to turn around and face the two intruders.  Shaking slightly, the bat crossed his arms in an endeavor to appear unimpressed, and as Gren spoke he kept his face even.  “I...don't believe I'll tell you.  We took the chance of letting her make that call, and I'm not gonna sell her out now.”  He jumped as Shiro's scroll fractured into smithereens is his hand, and watched with no small amount of worry as a dramatic change took place in the snow tiger.  Trying to ignore what looked like a nervous fit, he continued.  “But I'll tell you this.  It's not for the humans.  It's for me.  And you're wrong.  You can completely escape your origins.  What about sex changes?  Nowadays it's improper to say that sex changes [i]aren't[/i] a viable and acceptable option.  Less dramatically, consider character development!  Someone might be born with a streak of cowardice but grow to overcome it.  Or the bravest man in the world,” the bat's voice quavered momentarily, “Might be broken inside by a single experience and turn into a shivering wreck.  People can change completely.  Fate isn't written in stone.”

Though his brain screamed for him to keep an eye on the biggest threat, the bat could not help but divert his eyes to Shiro, who had just recovered.  He found the hunter's mention of 'relaying information' most alarming, and suddenly wished he thought to tell Babe to warn his father.  Without further ado, however, the time for hindsight passed, and Shiro took center stage.

At the introductions, the bat gave a sarcastically polite bow and identified himself.  “Mauve.”  After that, he waited, with as resolute an expression as he could make, for Shiro to say his piece, only sighing in the middle of the story and giving a short, derisive laugh when the first 'decision' was presented.  He watched with barely-contained fury as Shiro readied his axe and delivered his ultimatum, and glanced over his shoulder to see the despair etched in the faces of the faunus hiding against the far wall.  Some looked to him for defense, but Mauve couldn't find one, either physical or ideological.  Some of the points made by the hunter-in-training were valid, but Mauve couldn't accept the judgment of this stranger over the song of his own heart.  So instead, knowing that he stood little-to-no chance against a furious axeling and a walking tank, he gave a wry laugh.

Then he said, “Some choice.  Should I give up everything I ever wanted or be forced to give up everything I ever wanted?  I don't even get the chance to defend my ideals, or bore you with my own sob story.  Or any of our stories.  Might makes right, after all; you've got the guns, and we don't.  Here's an interesting bit though: Sienna?  Her semblance is speed—crazy speed.  She could get out of this place if she really wanted and run across water to the next kingdom over.  Maybe it has something to do with her tattoo, I dunno.  Anyway...” the Mauve shuffled his feet, and raised a hand to his forehead,  “You've probably figured out I'm stalling, so I guess I'd better choose.  Hmm...oh, what the hell, I choose fight.  Take a good look first, though...”  so saying, Mauve smacked himself on the forehead.  A soft purple glare appeared around him, resonating smoothly as if it had always been there, before it flickered, and died.  “Ah!  I was worried that wouldn't work.  I deactivated my aura.  No semblance, no protection, nada.  One swing of that axe and I'm another one of your 'mistakes'.”  Smirking, Mauve twisted his head to shout over his shoulder.  “Honey, run for it!  Tell someone there's a guy in here with a chainsaw that shoots rockets!”

Against the back wall, Coral the deer took a final, fearful look at Mauve, before sprinting for a door partially hidden behind some of the bunched-up beside curtains.  As she did so, the rail-thin swan boy pushed himself laboriously to his feet and tottered the hunters' way.  Assuming a doubtful and unstable fighting stance, he mimicked Mauve, but was unsuccessful in deactivating his aura.  His every aspect argued some form of insanity, but his words rang with surprisingly lucidity as he announced himself in third-person,”Deneb will fight for what Deneb thinks is right,” though it seemed a strong breeze could send him tumbling.  Mauve merely sighed, but nevertheless felt gratitude that he wasn't alone in the end.

[center][h3][color=007FFF]Abel Fulgurate – Battling a Giant Lizard[/color][/h3][/center]

Abel [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6U00bFnUWNc]swore profusely[/url] as an earthen spike erupted from the ground and nearly impaled him, impeded only by his protective aura.  Not for the first time in five minutes, he questioned with pronounced cynicism and disbelief how exactly he'd ended up locked in some sort of animal exhibit fighting a horse-sized iguana for his life.

[center]-=-=-[/center]

Understandably oblivious to the presence of an intruder, the doctors continued in their last-minute preparations.  Footsteps from behind announced the late arrival of a fourth doctor bustling along, giving Sapphire plenty of time to move out of the way.  Pulling on his surgical mask, the new arrival rushed over to a pair of tanks attached to the wall beside the operating table and concerned himself with getting them working.  Another doctor bid Sienna to lie down, which she did, and on came the overhead lights.  Holding a breathing mask in his hand, the new arrival approached the coyote faunus and gently placed the mask over her face, allowing her to guide it to where it felt more comfortable, and over the course of three minutes or so the anesthesia was administered.  Despite the apparently illegal nature of the upcoming treatment, it seemed nothing if not proper and methodical.  

The red-haired doctor opened a small container of operating tools and placed them by the sleeping faunus's head for later use.  From a nearby refrigerated cabinet another carefully removed a syringe full of a clear liquid, in which span a solution of dark red particles, with which he approached Sienna for injection.

Noises from outside the room announced the presence of another incoming individual.  If Sapphire were to look, she would find a portly man in a deep blue security uniform only a few brisk seconds away from the staircase that led toward the upper observation galley.  From his intensely worried expression it was obvious that something was sorely amiss.