[h1][color=silver]Lance Gunnar - Amund[/color][/h1]
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Lance has a certain spring in her step as she skipped along the mostly deserted street, all to aware of the sirens calling out their desperate whales into the night, blue and red splashed against the walls of the buildings they passed by, casting a soft light over the girl as she moved along. Perhaps she could watch the blaze. Maybe do some work while she was at it. If the police and emergency services were so occupied, it meant that the scum of the streets would be more active. At the thought, a slow, broad smirk crossed her face, concealed beneath the strip of fabric covering the lower half of her face. 

As she approached the scene, her fingers drifted over the knives dangling off of her hips, finger tip tracing the curve of one of the sheathed blades, ready to draw it free and send it singing through the air with pinpoint accuracy. Her tongue flicked over her lips. This would surely be a fun night.

Her pace slowed as she drew closer, her gaze drifting to a glinting wet patch on the floor. Of course it wouldn't be rare for suspicious liquids to be found in the alley, but this was different. Red, and not just from the lights of the emergency vehicles. Blood? Looked like someone had gotten way ahead of themselves. So long as they were at least harming the correct people, she supposed she could let it slide. They were assisting her. A hero in their own right, though that would be decided when she got to the bottom of the source. 

Dropping a sleek metal board from her hand, she let it drop to the ground, the clatter of it drowned out by the screaming sirens close by. Stepping over the plank, she slowly lifted her hand, drawing it up beneath her before slowly pulling it off there ground, her mind focusing on the action as she was slowly sent up into the sky, board bobbing closer to the edge of a roof before she lept down off of it, drawing it back into her hand. It required enough focus that she didn't use the board often, but still convenient enough for her to carry it with her.

Lowering close to the rooftop, she slowly started to jog along, gaze down on the street below as she tried to follow the trail of glistening blood, though it seemed she didn't need its help. Voices. Voices were good.

A man in armour. Unusual, though then again everything that was going on in that moment was unusual. A man bathed in bloodied armour, and another man surrounded by five crimson palms. That was certainly an unusual sight. Hopping over to the edge of the wall, she quickly sat down, her legs swinging idly as she gazed down at the two, mild amusement caught in her dark eyes.