[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/335246741425356802/401123716026859520/Umekodone.png[/img]
[@Plank Sinatra] [@Crimmy][/center]

One second Umeko had been swept up in a hug, laughing and squirming as her picture was taken. The next the lights went out, and she heard the unmistakable crack of a gunshot. [i]Very[/i] close by. Her reaction was immediate, and oriented around her highest priorities. She pivoted, hard, yanking Brennan close and putting her back to the source of the sound half a second before pushing off with her other foot; even a small application of her ability was enough, under the circumstances, to overcome the token resistance Brennan unintentionally put up. 

They hit the ground rather uncomfortably, though considering the Irishman's experience with buses none the worse for wear. And he cushioned [i]her[/i] landing. It had been too late to do anything about the first shot by the time she heard it, but in the dark they were safe from any followups. Not that any seemed to come. She didn't dare make a sound, but warded off the dread that washed over her by checking his pulse from the arm that had been holding her. The cosplayer's other hand ran across his torso, working its way up until it had checked his shoulders and his neck for any entry wounds. To her great relief, she found none.

With relief came anger, and the consideration of what had happened. Only one set of people was likely to get Brennan's attention like that [i]and[/i] be willing to take a shot at one of them, considering the mess she'd insisted they poke their noses into over the past few days. 

With that anger came the decision that she wasn't done with either of those two convention employees.

[color=4169e1]A͓͞t̘̳̰ ͍̤̯̳̱̠̖a̺̖̩l̶͇͍̰̘̬͈l̟̪̫̖͟.̘̬̪̻[/color]

But in the mean time she had a bigger problem, as did everyone else in the convention hall. She wasn't certain it was unrelated, but it was certainly more [i]immediate.[/i]

This called for a hero.

Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, by now, and she had heard the ringleader's spiel. Unfortunately, sitting still was one-hundred-percent contrary to her nature, soooooo.

[color=4169e1]"Brennan,"[/color] She whispered, propping herself up enough to grab the sturdy prop staff she'd dropped to free up her hands. [color=4169e1]"I think they're underestimating us."[/color]