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[b][u]The Academy of the Arts - Outer Theatrical hall[/u][/b]
What the hell just happened... what the hell did she do?!

Moira's vision blurred and swayed as her eyes darted across the room, settling on Estelle as she lay on the floor. What did she do?! She was trying to make her an [i]opening[/i], that's all! But this... for her to have hit her instead.... to hit [i]Estelle[/i]...

It felt like she had hit her own child - hell, Estelle was like a daughter to her anyway. She hurt all over, from the glass, from the blow to the head from earlier, from hitting the wall just now - although none of that mattered to her anymore. Her eyes flicked towards the man... the one who had caused her to do this. It was him, because he got out of the fucking way! At least, that's what she told herself. They were all as devious and manipulative as the last. They all...!

She pulled herself up, keeping her head bowed low for a moment. Her fists clenched, her lips curled into a snarl, her pupils dilated - focused on Mattis and Mattis alone. Syed was pulling himself up next to her as he clutched at a grazed elbow, although he was looking at her in fear. She was deaf to his words. To his calling out to their leader in horror. To his attempts to reign Moira back, to calm her down. She didn't hear any of it. He barely existed to her anymore.

She screamed - an awful, inhumane noise, her face contorting with rage. The air around her felt thick and oppressive, like some unseen force was bearing down upon it. The power of her will. How [i]dare[/i] he?! How dare this man make her... make her do [i]that...![/i] A hand snatched out, grabbing a small empty podium from next to the wall and flinging it towards him. Then without another comprehensible word, without even waiting for the podium to hit, she launched herself at Mattis, even faster than before.

Syed stumbled behind her, knowing full well to keep as far as he could from her when she was like this. Unfortunately for him that could never be that far, but he'd take six foot over nothing. He kept his hands up and ready to cast all the while, should he need to.

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[b][u]The Academy of the Arts - Performance Hall[/u][/b]
Hah! As expected, she was backing off. Well, that was just fine for him.

"Heh, funny how you say that now," Jay said, his voice as level as ever. The boy was struggling against his grip, but as expected he was a weak point. It was no problem. "I would consider smashing my face in hasty, but you did that."

He maintained his hold on Angel, although he took the opportunity to step to one side - unknowingly closer to the dice - keeping his eyes on Xan the whole time. He didn't even need to do anything else - this hold would eventually suffocate the boy to unconciousness, and the woman was too hesitant to do anything but watch. "So I suppose the question is, what could you offer to make me release him?"

Except then he heard a cry of suprise... a voice that he knew only too well. He couldn't help it. He twisted on the spot, trying to spy anything which was going on in that pink fog. Frances-chan?!

And in doing so, he had unknowingly loosened his grip on Angel.