[@Krayzikk][@Plank Sinatra][h3]Magi☆Mint Chip Ice Cream - Dianoid, District 15[/h3]
Kanacon, the twisted nexus of greed and lust, was rapidly rising at a record rate to the upper rungs of what his comrade would have foully described in limited English as a 'shitlist'. The very fact that he had been conscripted into volunteering as a grunt worker already granted the convention immortality as one of his greatest indignities, but with every passing moment, the young man was becoming utterly certain that it and the events of the past day could possibly become the absolute worst time of his life. Not only had he been shamed by his failures, the monstrous miscegenationist responsible had, in the way of an animal that shunned humanity, chosen to purchase from the Magi☆Mint Chip Ice Cream stall attended by him and his comrade in a coincidence that could almost be a conspiracy.

Many would have descended into inelegant blubbering at such a realisation, but he had not been laid so low that he would so easily forget his dignity. To debase himself so by entertaining the very thought that the very machinations of fate itself were arrayed against him was disgusting, and the mere idea so repulsive that his choler could almost overflow. But he refused to. No matter how much he despised contact with the Euroweeb, his sense of professionalism allowed him to perform his assigned duty elegantly and with dignity. And though he was very much aware that the animal recognised him (the sniffing could not be mistaken for anything else), he could not so publicly rid himself of its desire to mockingly meddle with him.

But when the lights snapped out of existence and the pall of black fell over every single despicable guest, the young man who acted in accordance with the name of Gandharva took his opportunity to act.

The pistol slipped into his hand.

He raised it.

And -

[hr][@DarkwolfX37][@Crusader Lord][@Williwaw][@Duoya][@ERode][h3]Kanacon, Dianoid, District 15[/h3]
There were ten of them. Before the lights had suddenly been extinguished, they had surreptitiously spread out across the convention centre, establishing points everywhere but the separate hall that contained the stage area. From appearances only, they appeared to be little more than regular con-goers, fellow Kanamin fans who had come to enjoy in all that Kanacon had to offer. However, they were but wolves amongst the flock, and when the entire floor turned pitch-black, their true nature emerged.

Even amongst the noises of confusion and surprise, the sound of weapons being armed were still very, very distinct.

But before any one of them could speak, to declare their objectives to those on the main floor, the doors to the concert hall slammed shut, one by one, each with an almighty bang.

And the gunshot rang out.
[hr][h3]Magi☆Mint Chip Ice Cream - Dianoid, District 15[/h3]
- the phone in Brennan's hand shattered.

He had changed his mind.

Gandharva grabbed his comrade and started running, their bodies shimmering only for a moment before they disappeared from view. Behind them, at the stall they had abandoned, nearby customers were screaming, absolutely unprepared for the prospect of an active shooter situation. And the chaos spread from there, filling the entire convention floor with even more panic. It was an inelegant and crude consequence to his choice of action, but there was nothing else he could do but extract them from the situation as quickly as possible.

Any initial goal of theirs had been thrown into confusion. As loathe as he was to admit it, he had no idea on what to do.

Who were these barbaric, bumbling men, and how had he failed to notice them?
[hr][h3]Kanacon, Dianoid, District 15[/h3]
The situation was quickly developing out of hand.

There needed to be [b]order[/b].

"Quiet!" shouted one of said armed individuals into a megaphone, the one that had taken point near the Kanamobile (the Kanamin-themed, solar-powered car that was the grand prize for the lottery) finally speaking up (although not before directing a colleague via headpiece somewhere). "All of you should play nice and shut up!"

His statement was punctuated by his holding up of a torch, its light cutting through the black.

"Now that I have all of you listening," he continued. "We'll keep it simple. None of you make another fucking sound, or try to call the cops, or try and play with a gun like whoever that smart fucking aleck and [i]we'll find you[/i], else we'll blow this place sky-high. Capiche? You dig?"