[center][h3]Geralt, Link Mirage, and Sakura[/h3]
[@Multi_Media_Man], [@Gentlemanvaultboy], [@Zoey Boey], [@Potemking][/center]

With the communication and preparation of the three boys coming together into a solid plan, Mirage took hold of his dart gun and began to bide his time. All waited for the perfect opportunity, eyes glued to the shining silver carts propelled in perpetual, cyclical motion around the kitchen by the sorceries of the Tempura Wizards. The movements of the other chefs and the sounds of food cooking provided ample distraction, but with the high stakes of his friends’ lives on the line and a snack of cheese to stave off the pain of hunger, Mirage’s focus was razor sharp. When Antoine transferred a fresh load of meat from the trough beneath the west-side chute his grip on the dart gun tightened, but only after the cart rattled and clanked all the way around the kitchen and the stretch-faced chef snagged a hunk of chuck steak did he take action. With the instinct and eye of a seasoned gunslinger masked by his childlike form, the illusionist took aim at the wheel and fired.

After a quiet but portentous [i]pop[/i] dart flew silently and stuck against the inner fuselage of the cart right behind the wheel, so that the next second its turn ate the rubbery projectile up and lodged it right between the metal. It stuck fast and hard, but the cart did not stop when the wheel did. A human pushing it around would have felt the disturbance in an instant and ceased pushing the moment he realized something was wrong, but the autonomous spell driving the cart lacked any kind of awareness. Instead the whole thing jolted and, aided by the weight of its burden, tipped right over. A tremendous crash echoed throughout the kitchen as it hit the tile, scattering its contents to splatter and roll across the floor of the entire northeast section, right to where an aghast Antoine stood with his hands against his head. The malformed chef let out a strained, inhuman blurt of frustration and alarm, but it was the bellow of the King of Cuisine that bounced off the kitchen walls.

“You ABSOLUTE BUFFOON!” he yelled, thundering over from the ovens. Scared by the sudden clamor he’d accidentally jerked the four-meat pizza he’d just been putting in, spilling a bunch of its toppings into the oven’s blackened depths. Even the sushi chef over in his corner looked over, irate. “You worthless clod! Not happy just screwing up your own garbage, huh? You’ve got to bring us all down with you!” He grabbed the smaller chef by the doughy cheek and pulled, stretching out his face to an unnatural degree as his arms labored to prop him up against the counter behind him so that he wouldn’t fall into the fire. “If this were my kitchen, I’d have you fired, literally! The first and last time anything of yours is ‘well done!’ Disgusting imbecile!” With a final wrench he shoved the chef into the counter. Groaning hideously and rubbing his cheek, he slumped to the floor. Antoine, meanwhile, whirled on the Tempura Wizards. “You two, pick all this up right now! Its a damn good thing the guests don’t care if it’s been on the floor.” Still mad, Antoine surveyed the disaster one last time, but found no trace of outside interference and returned to his own meals with a huff.

At that point, however, came a weedy laugh from above. An unexpected complication peered down from the second floor with a wide smile. “Hahahaha!” Larry cackled, leaned his bulk over the upstairs railing. His unfortunate positioning delayed anyone’s ascent via sausage links--a trip made extremely difficult in the first place by the sheer exertion of hungry children being forced to lift their own weight at least a whole story straight up. “Everything okay down there? Oh, but don’t mind me. I’ve got a job to do! Hahahaha!” Larry gave a mocking wave and returned to his fish fillets, leaving the mess for everyone else to take care of. 

Antoine scowled and bent to the task of salvaging his pizza. “Ingrates, every last one,” he muttered bitterly. “Not an ounce of cooking skill among them, except Fujimoto. Grragh. I’ve gotta get out of this hellhole...I’ve been working my ass off. She’s gotta appreciate all the quality I’ve put in by now. Just gotta go right up to her, tell her how it is…”

During the disturbance, which the captives upstairs knew must be the work of their friends already attempting a rescue, Bella kept her eyes peeled. Even as the smoke stung them and made them water, she stayed aware so that she could consider every aspect of the situation. The hubbub had put all of Rika’s hushed suggestions momentarily on hold, but now -and especially when Larry stepped away from the table nearby- she could afford to answer. “Extinguishing the fire would be great, but it would take a lot to douse this burning wood. And I’d rather not descend into the fire either by falling or growing.” Being taller than the other girls now, it was her feet that the flames licked every so often, forcing her to spend extra energy by bending them up and out of the way. Another attempt to wriggle her tail confirmed its extra length and weight. Even tied up she could sense the difference. At full size her leviathan tail weighed much more than she did even as an adult, and it was already on its way. Unfortunately her bonds put its head above the bar and hook she hung from, and firing at the ceiling served no purpose in her mind. Bella gritted her teeth. “If not for that man, we could figure something out. But he would notice and stop anything we might try.”