Gorrendil snarled at the woman in front of him. Of course it was just a facade and the Eldar was actually laughing inside of him. It took all his power to not burst out loud. "You listen here Mon'keigh. I do not trust you as well. You threatened cross dresser here for unknown reasons. Reserve your anger and hesitance to trust. Whatever warp spawned son of a grox sent us here, we all make him pay. And to do that, we stick together." The Outcast was about to lower his weapons when Sayaka dashed in. 'She's the hero type isn't she?' thought Gorrendil. Her speech made him think about the son of a grox who teleported him here. 'Probably watching us, being a dick. What an asshole.' He lowered his weapons and let out "Do not threaten more people. Or I shoot you in the head" out of his gob. Of course, he had more important things to do. Like attend the screaming child in the hallway. He saw Sayaka zoom towards the entrance, worried expression on her face. Confident that Sayaka can handle it, but still skeptic as to the state of the child, the resident Eldar spent several seconds pondering on what to do. "To warp with it" he sped towards the hallway, worried and concerned. What he saw convinced not to be. He saw Sayaka in front of a girl, clutching what seemed to be an instrument. He smiled. Gorrendil was wanting a child after the wedding. Emily..... The Eldar shook out of it. She was gone. He continued to watch the sight before him, an unknown single tear rolls down his cheek.

After of a couple of trying to find the projector room Mizn gave up and returned to the group. He notice P.E.K.K.A. looking a bit down he held out his hand and a small tornado of golden dust appeared in his hand. Several seconds later the dust took the form of a monarch butterfly once it has fully formed it flutter off towards P.E.K.K.A landing on his helmet. Afterward Mizn rejoined the group "Statement; I am unable to find a projector room. Theory; The entrance to the room is located else were," he said in his monotone voice.

With the blue-haired girl prompting the dissolution of the brief Mexican stand-off, Integra had quite a bit to ponder on as the group continued to various points within the theater. The leader of Hellsing needed time to think, to brig some kind of plan together for helping the others out (if she even could), so picking her way through the debris caused by PEKKA's little rampage, she found one of the rows of seats that hadn't been dismembered and sat down. A glinting object on the floor caught Hellsing's attention and, stopping, she picked it up with a gloved hand. As she brought it up to eye level, she realised that it was, to her good fortune, a cigarette lighter. A cursory examination revealed that the small device had a name stamped on the side, although this had been faded into obscurity, and a curious emblem that Integra did not recognise: If there was anything that could have clued Integra in about the former owner of the lighter, it was in the emblem's depiction of a winged F.S. pattern combat knife - a symbol commonly associated with British Commonwealth commando units back in her time. Was this left behind by one of the many poor souls who may have passed this way before, dropped carelessly or discarded in its owner's final moments? Was this soldier even alive, trapped in the labyrinth surrounding the theater like she and the others were? Pushing the grim implications aside for the moment, she operated the lighter's 'cap' and, bringing it close to her cigar, tried to light it. The first two tries resulted in only a small sprinkling of sparks, much to her disappointment. On the third try, however, a weak, sputtering flame emitted from the nozzle, the glow lighting some of Integra's face as she lit the cigar and puffed on it a couple of times to fan the embers. "If we ever find the man or woman who owned this," she reflected to herself as she leaned back in her seat, exhaling cigar smoke contently. "I'll have to thank them when I return it."

Krika was beginning to become interested in the growing group. Watching each member closely. None of them appeared to be a significant threat to the Makuta, but decided to climb onto the wall, hiding in a dark corner of the ceiling, and restoring his density to normal. Here, surrounded in the shadow, he was strongest. He continued to watch the group from above, his red eyes faintly glowing out.

The P.E.K.K.A. suddenly widened it's eyes. A butterfly had fallen for it's trap. Oh this was going to be fun. Pulling out it's sword, the massive warrior charged. "Butterfly!" It's massive sword started swinging back and forth as it tried to swipe the small insect. Chairs went flying as it hit them with such force. The weapon of mass destruction moved across the room, leaving nothing but chaos behind it. It's mind was totally focused on the butterfly in front of it. It was bliss! It was utterly terrifying for anyone that wasn't the P.E.K.K.A.. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wizard POV: The wizard saw it happening too late. As soon as the person had sent out the butterfly, he hit the floor. It wasn't soon enough in his opinion. Near instantly the chaos had begun. While the P.E.K.K.A. was rampaging across the room, the wizard was cowering in the wreckage hoping that it wouldn't come near.

While tending to the still woeful child, Sayaka was lured towards a series of racket that came rumbling through the hallway. With a click of her tongue, she stood up shaking her head at the latest commotion, unsurprised that another member of the volatile individuals had caused a riot among the crowd. “I’ll be back,” she remarked, briefly turning her eyes back to the young girl before marching her way towards the theater. A few steps after she left, however, Sayaka found herself stumbling upon Gorrendil once again, in tears no less. She arched her brows in concern, unknowingly blushing pink in the process, but before she could ask, her attention was yet again drawn to the persistent uproar from the other room. She returned her eyes to Gorrendil, offering him an apologetic nod, before continuing with her trip. As she impatiently stomped through the passageway, she pondered on the kind of disorder that had taken place this time. When she finally stepped through the doorway, a chaotic scene awaited her: the theater seats that were welded into the floor were being tossed like rag-dolls across the hall. The metallic brute who had been fired upon earlier was now mindlessly ploughing through anything and everything. Just as Sayaka was wrapping her head around this madness, she quickly noticed the cause of the titan’s berserk - a glowing butterfly seemingly made out of dust. Sayaka slammed a glove against her face with brute force. ”A butterfly of all things… you’ve gotta be kidding me.” Sliding her palm out of the way, Sayaka was dubious for an instant whether to bring the childish actions to a halt. But all it took was an observation of the damage being done for anyone to understand the potential dangers others would be put in. With a heavy shake of her head, she sighed. She really didn’t want to do this. Instantly, a sabre suddenly appeared in Sayaka’s grip. She raised the blade against her own arm - and then she proceeded to slice it. All it took was a mild cut across her skin, and crimson blood came pouring out all over her white and blues. But as soon as the stream of red began its flow from her limb, Sayaka immediately swung her arm in an 180 angle, propelling the stream of blood in front of her. Following the momentum, her bloodied cape swung along Sayaka’s movement as well, but in the matter of a few short seconds, the blue-haired girl was completely engulfed within the clothing. Her mantle would follow suit and vanished into thin air as well. In almost the same instant, across the surface of the thick red liquid flung through the air, one could possibly spot, given a sharp enough eye, a pale reflection of an armored titan similar to P.E.K.K.A., but larger… much, much larger, as one would learn when the room became enveloped under the shadow of the blood, blood that had transformed into a rose-red veil hovering above the theater, a giant half-knight, half-mermaid creature screened along the wrinkled fabric. And when the summoning ritual, lasting not more than five seconds, had came to an end, the veil swooped to the ground, and the mermaid witch Octavia von Seckendorff stood in its place. A melancholic orchestral music began booming through the theater, as if harkening the coming of this massive titan 30-40 times the size of an average human - a full-grown adult male would fit nicely in her iron grasp. But as breathtaking as it might have been, one wouldn’t be able to take in the grand sight before him, as Octavia had began moving as swiftly as she appeared, already thrusting her proportionately-scaled cutlass towards the smaller titan running amuck. The tip of the blade struck a spot among the theater seats that P.E.K.K.A. was about to enter. With the width of the sword being merely half of her target’s size, it was not going to become much of an obstruction for P.E.K.K.A. - had she intended her sword to be an obstruction. Instead, Octavia meant for the sword to startle the creature - if it was even possible - as she attempted to grab her with the other gauntlet. Surely, this would at least put some tension onto the brute’s movement. Amidst the confusion, one might wonder of the location Sayaka had teleported to, or if she had indeed transformed into the monstrous witch form she had so much trouble being rid of. However, if one would pay heed to Octavia’s top of the shoulder, he would see the puppeteer controlling the colossus. Her somber blue eyes were staring down the enemy without so much as a hint of fear, and yet bearing no ill intent. “Please, stop this madness before somebody gets hurt!” she yelled through the barrage caused by both the creature she was speaking to and her own witch form.

DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR. DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR. DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR. DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR. DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR. The Joxter twitched a bit. DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR. Strange thing about that, but back in the formative years of his childhood, Mr. Joxter had had a few terrible experiences with authority figures. Not only did they not understand the sanctity of an open door and an unlocked gate, but they didn't understand the difference between the right to privacy and the violation to nature that is private property. Frankly--this is a shocker--being shown that the world didn't trust a five year old boy taught that five year old boy that he couldn't be trusted, and therefore must live up to that standard. He loathed closed doors and locked gates. Money meant nothing to him. He was fickle and always contrary and there wasn't much that could be done about it; he was going to do what he was going to do and that was that. And this goddamn door would not mark the first time in his life he'd obeyed a petty sign. He had a reputation to keep up with. "Well, you're wrong about that one, dear friend. That makes one more door that must be opened." He opened the door. It took but a little touch for the door to creak inward, bright, white light peering out from behind the widening gap. With it came a cold wind and the smell of rusted metal and old factory--a wind gentle enough to caress the clothes and hair of the two who stood nearest the door and dance around the room in big, fluid motions, but powerful enough to grab the attention of a busy mind. It was the calming sort of breeze that you'd meet in late spring. It wasn't uncomfortably cold, or harsh, but enough to make you look around at the milkweed and ponder existence. In any other setting, it would've been a reassuring godsend that things had a way of working out, but here it just felt like a lie. An ominous, sickening attempt to create a false sense of security. Maybe the Host knew that they were smart enough to understand that. Maybe he wanted to let them know that he was intending to catch them off guard, to instill more fear than necessary. He seemed to have an ego. The door opened wider, ever so slowly. Each second passed like a minute. When it only a quarter of the way open, half the theater had already been engulfed in a harsh light. The other half were corners that stood out as jagged, exaggerated shadows. When it was half of the way open, those closest to the door were forced to look away. When it was nearly open, you could almost hear the cliche "Ahhhhs" of the choir announce the second-coming of Christ and the see the Disney fireworks overhead. All was well in the world! Praise Zeus! When it was at last open, the build-up was dropped like an anvil and the ridiculously dramatic lighting flickered a few times before dimming to the cheap, florescent glow of a DIY home & yard depot. The choir stammered and the "Aaahs" dropped into a confused mumbling of "Eeeeeh?"'s and "Urrr"'s. The Disney fireworks went haywire and ran into the ground before exploding all over a family of six. Those who had been forced to look away looked up in confusion. The breeze felt a lot more like air conditioning, now... "Uh...you fellows interested in looking at something?" The Joxter shouted, but he knew that whatever he'd just done had got their attention anyways. At least he wasn't dead. Yet.

A few fellow humans and an eldar xenos. Had he fallen into some sorcery of the eldar? Then again, he himself also acted like he did not know what was going on... Thinking that the girl was right and that there was little he could do, the Commissar made his way towards a supposed theatre. Oh, the things a commissar would do for that bowl of tanna tea that he was about to receive but never did. Already the commissar missed the putrid smell of his aide; the comforting protection it brought him which managed to drag him out of many sure-death situations. He wondered what the Valhallans would think of their missing commissar; wondering what sort of panic they might have jumped into. A strange irony - most of the time, a regiment would be overjoyed if their commissar were to suddenly disappear. All things considered however, this new place did not seem so bad either. Considering that no one was trying to kill him, corrupt him, turn him into some sort of warped monster or in general do him harm - except for potentially the eldar. Who knew what Xenos could get up to. But still, no one was shooting at him yet, and Cain thanked for that simple fact as he opened the door into the theatre. A moment later, Cain promptly closed the door.

With chaos of all kinds erupting within the theater, Integra decided to herself to move to the other side of the auditorium rather then get crushed by any of the flying chairs, a witch's alternate form or that maniac knight-construct. As the old saw went, however: easier said then done. Clipping the burning end of her cigarette off and stubbing it out, Integra pocketed her half-finished cigarette before, carefully waiting for a gap, took off. Immediately, she was forced to dive to the floor as a chair went sailing in her direction, courtesy of PEKKA. As said chair disappeared into the back of the auditorium, Hellsing picked herself up again and ran, picking her way through the mess of overturned chairs and destroyed furniture, darting towards the marked-off door that was now fixating everyone's attention. A sudden blow from the witch's weapon impacted on the area of floor beside her, the concussion sending her tumbling down one of the sets of stairs and into a lower row. Gritting her teeth as her limbs tingled in pain, she picked up her discarded spectacles before she stumbled the last few meters to where the now-opened door sat. Slamming her back against the wall near the door frame, Integra took a minute to catch her breath before she took a peak around the corner ... Well, for all the build-up she heard from her side of the seating area, she was quite let down by what was inside. You'd think the overlord of this place was pulling their legs.

Ib was distracted from conversing with Darkhunter to the chaos happening on the other side of the theater. Really, why they couldn't just get along was beside her. They knew they were all stuck together, there was no sense in tearing each others throats out every minute they were stuck here. Based on what she experienced in the Gallery she knew they were probably going to have to work together at some point to get out of a room. She just hoped they all realized this and cooperated. Upon the opening of the door that had been marked to do no such thing, Ib cried out at the bright light and shielded her eyes, covering Darkhunter's as well because she had noted before how sensitive his eyes seemed to be to the element. She heard voices singing in the background and for a moment she believed that they had all died and gone to Heaven. But such as easy escape was not the case. Like the sound of a gramophone needle scratching as it plays a record the light dialed back in intensity and the choir dropped away. Ib slowly uncovered her eyes and straightened from the bent over position she had taken. She cast a look at the feline next to her to see if he knew what was going on before she got to her feet and padded over to Jax, peering inside as well. She blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what she was seeing exactly. "A storage unit? What in the world?" She mumbled to herself.

River had nodded, then heard her go away. "Wait! Come back!" she yelled after her. "Please don't leave me alone to the darkness again...," she whimpered. She got up and walked after the footsteps, occasionally bumping into a wall. She heard the music booming loudly as she stumbled towards the theatre. She now had no clue where she was more than ever. She whimpered a little as she neared the theatre's door.

River had nodded, then heard her go away. "Wait! Come back!" she yelled after her. "Please don't leave me alone to the darkness again...," she whimpered. She got up and walked after the footsteps, occasionally bumping into a wall. She heard the music booming loudly as she stumbled towards the theatre. She now had no clue where she was more than ever. She whimpered a little as she neared the theatre's door.

Ib heard a whimper and looked over at the entrance to the theater, seeing a girl about the same age as she was. Ib glanced at the others before walking over to her. "Hi, I'm Ib and I'm nine. What's your name? Are you ok?" Ib asked, feeling sorry for the girl. She reminded her a little of how she had been when she first found out she was in a Gallery where things came alive. She gently took the girls hand with her own tiny one. "We need to go over to the others ok? We found a new room." Ib said in a gentle voice, trying to calm the girl down.

As a massive sword came between it and the butterfly, the P.E.K.K.A. stopped. It gave a confused look towards the wielder, as if asking 'why did you stop me?'. Perhaps this new entity was a threat. Although, the wizard had said that all present were allies, and that would include this one. "Destroy?" The P.E.K.K.A. was very confused. It was half torn between continuing after the butterfly, and destroying this new potential threat. In the end, it just settled with continuing to stare confusedly as it tried to work things out in thought.

P.E.K.K.A. had became stationary. The contrast between its stiffness and its prior outrage was enough to grab Sayaka's attention. She immediately retracted Octavia's command to grab the smaller knight, right as her giant metallic fingers were just a few feet away from coming into contact. The orchestral music screeched to a sharp, unnatural end the instant Sayaka cancelled her command, and the world was silent once again. "Destroy?" the naive creature sounded its childlike query. "No! Stop that! Destroy bad!" Sayaka calmly reprimanded atop Octavia's shoulder, waving her index finger at P.E.K.K.A. with her other hand thrust against the waist. "Geez! Just look at the damage you have done. Who knows what-" But before she could finish her sentence, another uproar resounded through the theater once again, this time a series of high-pitched hymns rather than a Yuki Kajiura-styled performance. Sayaka tried turning towards the singing, but the intense light caused her to pull back her head under her raised cape. It was mere seconds later when both the voices and light diminished in strength, and when Sayaka descended her mantle, she gave another of the many sighs she had been offering this place. "Where the hell are we, really?" she raised the question out loud as she laid her eyes upon what looked like the inside of a home depot stretching out towards the horizon.

"Statement; I am unable to find a projector room. Theory; The entrance to the room is located else were" said Mizn. Alfonzo turned his attention to the robot making it’s statement that it couldn’t find the projector room. It caught Al’s attention, so he glanced around the room for a minute, observing the area from where he was standing to see if he noticed anything suspicious or hidden. He looked backed at the robot and replied. “Well it is a big room, so it could be anywhere.” Maybe, somewhere in the room, there could be a doorway out of all of this, but then again, it could link into another place inside the building. Either way, Alfonzo was committed to take that chance no matter what the circumstances or stipulations were. He decided to commit himself to help get out of this mess, so he now wondered on what the next step was. Then, all of a sudden, he heard something. Where it was coming from was uncertain, but it sounded like music. He became puzzled for a moment, then all of a sudden…… "A storage unit? What in the world?" said Ib. It seemed as if the young girl had found something, but what was it? Before he could ask, she made her way off the stage and past him to tend to another situation. He looked back to see what it was, only to spot another little girl that she was trying to help. Alfonzo turned his attention back to the stage, scratching the back of his head with confusion.

Mizn watched the chaos he created when he sent that butterfly to P.E.K.K.A. "Embarrasses statement; my bad," the automaton said recalling the butterfly back to him. Clasping his hands around the Dust constructs he turned it back to Dust and absorbed it back into his body. Hearing all the commotion he looked over to were it was he decided to investigate it. Seeing the storage room full of VHS and DVDs he enter inside and started to look through a stack of DVDs.

"A storage room. Really?" Integra muttered aloud as she rounded the door and headed into the adjourning room. "Just what the hell are the ... well, whoever or whatever that's keeping this place running, what are they doing?" Clearly becoming agitated at her confinement once again, she fought to keep her frustration down as she carefully scanned each of the shelves that dotted the place, looking for any tools or weapons that would be useful to the group.