[color=Red][CENTER][h1][b]Amelia[/b][/h1][/CENTER][/color]

[hr]

Amelia had been swimming in grief and turmoil. She almost didn't hear it when Lynn started to protest weakly. Amelia suddenly froze with a gasp as Lynn began to cough, and her protests became more audible. Amelia had a look of relief on her face, but it didn't last. The sound of movement and gunfire moving into the cafeteria set her back on edge immediately. Glancing around worriedly, Amelia leaned down and lowered her voice. "Hey. Hey! SHHHHHH! We aren't getting shot at right now but we aren't out of here yet. Lynn you're....." Amelia looked away for a second, not quite able to tell the truth. "You got fucked up. I'm gonna get you to the hospital but we need to get clear first. Just....hang in there and be quiet."

Amelia peaked around the corner and got a look at the oncoming terrorists. Two of them stood out, and were getting disturbingly close. Amelia swore under her breath, and reached for the rifle again. "If I get out of here, I'm learning how to shoot a gun, or at least fight," she muttered to herself. She looked over the rifle like an archeologist holding an unfamiliar artifact. She wasn't even sure the gun was still loaded. Amelia took two deep breaths. She took the gun in both hands, holding it as steady as a traumatized teenage girl possibly could. "Dumbest thing I've ever done..." With that, Amelia swung around the table, intent on gunning down the oncoming threat.

Amelia then [i]immediately[/i] ducked back behind as there was a scuffle. Amelia knew where her talents lie. Anything short of a surprise attack would be met with a painful death. So instead, she held down behind cover, holding tightly onto the gun. She braced herself, preparing to strike when the fighting died down. As silence echoed, she prepared to dart around and shoot, but froze as she heard a familiar voice. 

[i]"This is Hardin. One down outside, one down inside. We have at least two survivors. Loading bay unknown."[/i]

FUCKING GENNEDY!? The persistently sarcastic voice in the back of Amelia's head could help but comment to herself, [i]Oh great. Now we owe Gennedy our life. GREAT.[/i] In truth, Amelia was just relieved they had back up at all, even if it was from one of the people she despised on some level. Amelia made no effort to hide the rifle on her person. She wasn't letting go of this shit. Still, it didn't seem like Gennedy seemed to care. Amelia gave a quick nod at his command, getting back over to Lynn. "She can't walk, but I can have us follow behind. Her spine is...I think it-HOLY SHIT LOOK OUT!"

Amelia caught sight of a flying steel chair leg, and a bit further off heard some madman screaming in...was that [i]Latin?![/i] Reflexively, she held out her arm, trying futilely to do something, anything before it struck the man who actually knew how to use a gun.

Only, to the shock of no one more then herself, it wasn't futile at all.

Amelia felt...some sort of energy, almost a tingling, pass through her fingers and out towards the flying chair leg. The sensation was so strange. It felt like she was flexing a muscle outside her body. With a familiar scar in reality, the chair leg instantly vanished and reappeared a few feet to the side. It wasn't very far, especially with the assailant still looking at it. But at the very least it was enough to get Gennedy out of its trajectory. Still hyped up on panic and adrenaline, Amelia popped up from behind the table, and aimed her rifle down from the direction of the throw. "COME ON OUT HERE YOU TERRORIST FUCK SO I CAN PUT ONE BETWEEN YOUR EYES!" She paused, surprised by her own fury, before adding, "Also Gennedy please don't be mad about the gun. I needed it."

While on the outside Amelia seemed zoned in, inside she was spinning with confusion. Most notably the thought of [i]how the fuck did I do that?[/i] dominated. Amelia shook her head. Questions for when she wasn't still dealing with maniacs trying to kill her.