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A strike of her sword, accurately placed, sliced cleanly through through the gap between frame and door. The lock that barred the room stood no chance. As plain as her sword may have been, Yasu always made sure it was unreasonably sharp as well, and once all that was done, she hooked her hand around the door and opened it up, revealing a projector room filled with the recently-deceased, old films and reels that may be worth something to a collector, and something else.

She had been in danger her whole life. Had trained as a hunter at a young age. And she had learned too, that where there was light, there was shadow. Where there was shadow, there were monsters.

And here?

[b]"Emma!"[/b]

The scepter of death loomed within a green finger, death that bloomed heartily, that slew with [i]timed[/i] intent. And Yasu wasn't done with this world yet. Frenetic footsteps shot her across the room, one hand reaching out to grab the shadow-puppeteer's own. The other, gripping her relic's handle, smashed it into the window before she slammed the rest of her body through it to break it open completely. The strength that befit a Cleaner wasn't the strength that belonged to a slight waif, and it was with that same strength that she continued onwards. One foot pressing against the window's ledge and then pushing [i]off[/i], the two of them flying through the air!

Fragments of glass, sparkling like diamonds. Their backs against the projectors, shadows larger-than-life.

And as for the first target, captured within the half-millisecond of her odd-eyes sweeping over the stage?

The two Cleaners landed atop the elephant-headed aerialist, and without hesitation, Yasu's sword flashed out the second time that day, intent on severing the strings that suspended it and dropping it down upon the monstrosities below. There was a time for subterfuge, of course. But what was a stage girl if not [i]dramatic[/i]?