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[b][u]Aliquam: Academy of the Arts – Performance Hall, Corridor[/b][/u]

“Oi, you got this coming, kid. Don’t sniffle or … You know, any of that gross emotional stuff,” Lute gruffly said as he held on to Fabian’s legs for Syed to do his scarf thing. Amy was now the one in charge of the lights, and now that he wasn’t getting his cheeks clawed off Lute had the chance to watch what was happening between the others.
“Go Moira, go Estelle!” The virtuoso cheered quite meekly as he raised his fist in the air. Er… Moira was kinda scaring him with that weird laugh. She looked like she was gonna tear Bunnyface’s head off with her teeth or something… Lute shuddered and made a mental note never to get the berserker upset in case she punched him to the high heavens.

… Oh yeah!

“I should probably help!” POW! “Or not. Looks like they got it.” Somebody got punched again and there was that scary sound of bone hitting flesh. You know what, he was content here. Besides, his sword was out of reach. Yeah. Lute spread his leg out and inched towards the pole, intending on using it to take back his sword before Bunnyface had the chance to steal it. The cold metal clinked against his heel and he rolled his knee back, then grabbed the pole and-

[i]Ssswhing.[/i]

-it crackled and reverted to its old, tiny form.

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[b][u]Aliquam: Academy of the Arts – Performance Hall, E Sector[/b][/u]

A cloud of smoke, the color being the only thing lovely about it, rose from below and blanketed a fair amount of space. Francesca had no doubt that the young gunner was down there somewhere, waiting for her… C’est magnifique! Under cover of darkness she reigned, but this just leveled the playing field. What a clever little girl. A smile formed on her lips as she lifted her right hand and adjusted her gloves, a crease forming in between her brows as she concentrated. It was time to break the stalemate. Thin inky wisps grew from her right shoulder blade, growing in width and length as they circled down her arm until it looked like she was sporting swaying black snakes on her satin glove. Her ‘hands’, as she affectionately called them.

[i] "I know you're here!"[/i] she called. [i]"I can... uh... I can smell you!"[/i]

From this height, the voice was disembodied and difficult to pinpoint. Knowing that a barrage of bullets would most probably follow her voice, she directed her arm at the next, lower chandelier and two tendrils shot out like grappling hooks. “And you know how to bluff too! What a darling,” Francesca cooed out from above, intentionally raising her voice so that Trixie can hear, and then stepped off her place, dropping down mid-swing to the floor. No doubt the little lady would see through the ruse quickly enough, but hopefully she would learn of the child’s location from the gunfire.

… Ah, on second thought, hearing gunfire from this close a distance might not be a good idea.

Francesca’s mouth twitched as if she was trying to prevent a grimace and her ‘hands’ shot forth, seeking blindly through the fog for the enemy.