[B]Gratia Mindaro - Madame La Guillotine[/B]

"[color=66cd00]I could kill you.[/color]"

A simple statement. There was none of her signature arrogance. There was no posturing, no hesitation, only a steely, onyx gaze that burned with rage and hatred.

She cocked her carbine up at Vitoria.

For the shortest of moments, nobody breathed.

Gratia's arm moved, and a number of bullets riddled the noisy phone, shattering it into unrecognisable pieces.

Silence.

She turned and walked away, carefully and gently making sure that the mission objective was not further damaged. Leaving the garage was ... not a particularly optimal idea for the time being, so she made her way to another part of the garage, a part where she could still keep an eye on the Dodici members ... without risking too much response.

She could handle the response.

The mission objective ...

The cargo ...

The Faunus ... [i]Nuit[/i] ... couldn't.

The Mistralese teenager gently laid her teammate down on the cold concrete, hissing slightly at the sight of the blood the other girl had coughed up. It was not a good sign. She would have rather given Fiordilatte an actual fucking goat she'd bought with her own money than see Nuit in such a state. It was not fucking good at all.

Her aura spiked, her body still clearly combat-active. The Dodici would have to go.

All of them.

"[color=66cd00]Don't you fucking dare get yourself more hurt,[/color]" she said, rolling Nuit into a position where the Faunus girl's windpipe wouldn't be so easily clogged, her touch soft as if dealing with a fragile young child. Even as she did so, she dug through her trouser pockets for a packet of tissues. "[color=66cd00]Saving your ass better have been worth it, birdbrain.[/color]"