[center]-=-=[b]Shiro[/b]=-=-[/center]

Unfortunately, before the girls could get much of a word in about themselves, a sliver of chaos wriggled their way.  Scurrying at frightening speed from the section of the Shelter underground now plagued by released auratic animals, an unkempt brownish-gray streak made a beeline for Shiro, Coral, and Millicent the squirrel, ignoring any distractions on its direct route.  Upon nearing its destination, the streak resolved itself into the shape of an otter-sized, weaselly creature, with a bullet-shaped head, a long body, and a thick, scruffy fur coat: a ferret.  Even by ferret standards, the thing was ugly, in a weirdly adorable kind of way, much like the pug.

Compared to the fleet-footed ferret's ungainly appearance, however, its voice managed to be far more surprising.  The little mammal didn't open its lips or move its tongue, but all the same, a squeaky, tactless voice made itself at home in each of the Faunus' minds.  [i]”Fun!”[/i] the voice exclaimed, and with all the alacrity a mustelid could muster, the ferret launched itself as the nearest person: Shiro.  Scrabbling up his clothing, it wormed its way onto his head, where it curled up in his hair.  [i]”Fun man!  Food?”[/i]

The noises of a greater disturbance than a telepathic ferret began to reach the trio, and the girls, as enraptured by the ferret as they were, turned in apprehension to look down the hallway from which the ominous clatters, yells, and hisses issued.

[center]-=-=[b]Pop[/b]=-=-[/center]

Turning around, Pop frowned with extreme severity at Sapphire, but that was all; he made no utterance of pain, nor did he twist his features in agony.  His hand had gone to his shoulder when Sapphire had driven the scalpel there, and only now did he remove it.  Between his index and middle finger the little blade was perched, unstained by any blood whatsoever.  Had the former boxer been more of a gloater, he would have told Sapphire how his semblance kept any move of hers from being a surprise, and how he could stretch out a single second to a minute in his perception to figure out how best to deal with any incoming attack.  In this case, it had looked like his hand had been trying in vain to block the scalpel's pierce, when in reality he had intended for the block to fail in order to push the improvised weapon just enough so that while it ripped through the cloth of his suit jacket, it didn't even touch his aura, let alone his skin.

Given time enough to think, Sapphire might be able to figure out what had happened on her own, but Pop didn't intend to give her that time.  With the range and strength advantage on his opponent, he felt confident pressing her, but it seemed that she had a gun.  “That counts,” said he coolly, “we may begin.”

Pop flicked the scalpel, using his semblance to make sure he had his aim right.  The cutting tool span upward, glinting brightly in the overhead light, and smacked into the ceiling.  In the same instant that the tool left his hand, Pop had begun moving.  Using his semblance liberally, he approached Sapphire in a single long step, swerving out of the way of the barrel and using one of his arms to block the path that the barrel would need to be moved to aim at him again.  Not one of his limbs went underutilized, for as he moved, his other arm came around in a low-arc hook punch toward the knee that Sapphire knelt with.  Her stunt had proved to him that what she lacked in the strength department she endeavored to make up for in speed and agility, something that targeting her legs would help to nullify.  The overall result was a single, fluid motion, made with impossible precision.