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[i][sub][@Sickle-cell] [@Migyudon] [@Old Amsterdam] [@SkinnyTy] [@PlatinumSkink] [@Duoya][/sub][/i][/center]

Mag wasn't an expert in any of this. Watching the first fight had been unnerving - not for the violence itself, which there hadn't been that much of, but for the fury of the surging crowds. She'd stayed silent throughout that, fearful of any action that might draw someone's attention. Though she supposed she'd lost out as well, judging by the betting slip she'd pilfered. At least no-one would be coming after her for that, and she'd made a profit off of tonight either way.

She'd noticed the fighters leaving, which was part of why she'd decided to hold on. It felt like she stuck out enough without drawing any attention to herself by walking out early. That, and coming across anyone that would actually fight in this thing didn't seem like a good idea. So she'd stayed there, quiet, waiting for the yelling to subside. Which it did, as Sickle walked back in to the room - though Mag couldn't help noticing that the other one hadn't returned.

[color=darkorange][i]Did he kill her?[/i][/color] Perhaps it was just Mag's nervousness that lead her to that conclusion, but she'd heard about what Sickle did to people. [i]Everyone[/i] had. Whether she was right or wrong, it had cemented her decision to wait until the end. Even if that woman wasn't a good person, Mag didn't want to see anyone carved up like Sickle could do. Of course, she could have asked around, but what if that offended someone, made them angry? She didn't want that - didn't want to do anything wrong. Didn't want to die.

Pale as death, she'd watched the next few rounds in a state of transfixed horror. [color=darkorange][i]These people...[/i][/color] How could she possibly be anything like that? Like them? She didn't understand, watching them try to tear each other apart, why she had to have any connection to this sort of thing. If anything, watching, she was sinking deeper into denial. She couldn't do something like that to someone. Which raised the question of why she was even keeping the notebook.

Because she was scared, she supposed. Scared to be a cape, but having seen the things that happened in Boston, how difficult it was to just get by without someone trying to hurt her; she was even more scared to let go of that power.

Shaking her head, she looked back towards the arena. It was the last fight. A bunch of independents, some she knew of and some she didn't, against the Protectorate. She didn't get why they were even here to begin with - she'd thought they were meant to be the good guys. And yet, this wasn't anything more than people hurting each other for money... the exact kind of thing they were supposed to [i]stop[/i]. It didn't make sense from the teenager's - admittedly naive - point of view.

But she watched anyway, at least until a voice rang out over the speakers. [color=darkorange][i]K-kill them all?[/i][/color] Her eyes widened, her grip tightening on the notebook in her hands. No, this wasn't good. None of this was good. It would be... smarter to run, wouldn't it? She didn't exactly want anyone knowing she had powers, and she definitely didn't want the PRT to try and send her home or something if they found her. It would make more sense to run.

And yet... she was frozen. She couldn't move, trembling slightly in her seat as she desperately flicked through the worn pages of her book, settling on one that seemed like a safe enough bet. Shaking, her eyes fixed on to the arena, but she didn't try to summon anything yet - honestly, she wasn't even sure if the field would still stop her or not. Whatever the case, it would be a last resort; for now, her gaze remained fixed on the arena, wide-eyed and terrified to see what would come next.

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[center][sub][i][@Sickle-cell][/i][/sub][/center]

True to her word, Automaton hadn't headed back in to the Circus. Partly because having her regeneration shut off wouldn't be a good idea, and partly because she didn't actually [i]want[/i] anyone to stick her ear back on. So, here she was, heading for a walk. Because there wasn't much else for her to do tonight, but there was an opportunity here. After all, the Protectorate were at the Circus, weren't they? And she'd been running a little low on supplies lately, so it was a pretty good opportunity for a few break-ins.

Once she was a safe enough distance from the Circus, she'd taken a minute to clean the blood off of her face and head, the wound finally sealed over. The mutilation was definitely going to take some getting used to in terms of her appearance, not to mention that she felt more than a little vulnerable on that side. Turning her head back and forth was at least able to somewhat cover for her partial deafness. [color=cyan][i]'Hey, let's challenge Sickle-Cell to a fight, that'll be a great idea'. Not like I regret it, but seriously.[/i][/color]

Then again, she'd survived. He hadn't been trying to kill her, but he'd definitely seemed to plan on damaging more than just an ear - she'd given him something to think about either way.

So, what were her priorities right now? New ear, first of all. Second, a way to actually cover it up. Third... well, there were plenty of things. She [i]bled[/i], for one, although fixing that'd be a long-term job. And he'd caught hold of her - so making that a really bad idea to do would be a pretty good idea. Extending her armour - maybe adding some retractable parts to shield her head and torso? Yeah, sounded like a plan.

But all her plans needed parts. Parts that, right now, she didn't have. Hence why she'd ended up here - picking a shop pretty much at random. She'd long since noted which ones were worth taking parts from, because she wasn't going to settle for low-quality. Of course, she could be subtle about it, but that just wasn't as much fun. Plus, trying to sneak around when she couldn't properly hear people coming was a disaster just waiting to happen. Placing her hand on the door, she grinned, a kinetic pulse blowing it off of its hinges.

Hey, a girl was allowed to enjoy a little shopping now and again.